Published by Jaico Publishing House
A-2, Jash Chambers, Sir Phirozshah Mehta Road
Fort, Mumbai - 400 001
jaicopub@jaicobooks.com
www.jaicobooks.com
© Vakkantham Suryanarayana Rao
NAVAGRAHA PURANA
ISBN 978-81-8495-931-4
First Jaico Impression: 2016
No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publishers.
For my parents
Subbalakshmamma and Varadaiah
who were the cause of my existence and
my wife Swarna Kumari
who is the cause of my happiness
Contents
Prologue
Annihilation and Creation
PART 1: THE BIRTH OF THE NAVAGRAHAS
The Birth of Surya
The Birth of Chandra
The Birth of Kuja
The Birth of Guru
The Birth of Sukra
The Birth of Budha
The Birth of Sanaischara
The Birth of Rahu
The Birth of Ketu
PART 2: THE LIFE OF THE NAVAGRAHAS
The Life of Surya
The Life of Chandra
The Life of Kuja
The Life of Budha
The Life of Guru
The Life of Sukra
The Life of Sanaischara
The Life of Rahu
The Life of Ketu
The Anointment of the Navagrahas
PART 3: THE GLORY OF THE NAVAGRAHAS
The Glory of Surya
The Glory of Chandra
The Glory of Kuja
The Glory of Budha
The Glory of Guru
The Glory of Sukra
The Glory of Sanaischara
The Glory of Rahu
The Glory of Ketu
Glossary
Slokas
Select Bibliography
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Prologue
T he Ganges, most sacred of India's rivers, flowed sedately past the ghats
of Varanasi, paying homage at the feet of Lord Shiva as Vishwanath. These
were the waters which had witnessed the passage of Rama, Krishna,
Buddha, and other epic heroes and immortals, on earth. What secrets and
ancient memories must the mighty river guard in its depths!
The evening sun shone forth in all its glory and painted the wind- rippled
water in myriad sparkling hues of copper and gold.
Sage Nirvikalpananda gathered his four young disciples and descended the
steps of the ghat to take the ritual bath ordained after an eclipse. As he
offered his prayers to the Sun, Nirvikalpananda's heart warmed to the
beauty of the golden orb which sat like the auspicious tilak on the brow of
the West. The sage intoned his mantra to the Sun, his voice throbbing with
devout harmony:
“Japaakusuma samkaasam kaasyapeyam mahaadyutim
Tamorim sarva paapaghnam pranatosmi divaakaram."
I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa
flower, who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the
enemy of darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.
Prayer completed, Nirvikalpananda exclaimed in delight, "The sun seems to
have grown in splendor after the eclipse!"
Chidananda smiled and said, "Naturally, master. His relief at having
escaped total oblivion is obviously shining through!"
This evoked merry laughter from his friends.
Then, Sadananda turned respectfully to their guru. "Master, the eclipse has
kindled in me a desire to hear the story of the splendid sun."
His request was seconded by Shivananda, who added, "Why stop with only
the king of the planets? Master, bless us with a discourse on the origins and
history of all the nine planets."
Vimalananda quietly pleaded, "Master, we long to immerse ourselves in the
bottomless ocean of your wisdom. Enlighten us."
Gazing at his disciples with thoughtful eyes, Nirvikalpananda said, "It is
only right that you learn the history of the Nine Planets. And Shivananda
has a point: the stories of the Navagrahas are so intimately woven together
that they can only be appreciated as a unified whole."
With a serene smile, Nirvikalpananda took his seat on the small earthen
platform lovingly crafted by his disciples. The cool river breeze, fragrant
with herbs, carried the melodious chirping of birds. The rays of the rising
sun formed a nimbus of light around him. He was enveloped by a cloak of
devotion and wisdom. Looking fondly at the four sishyas seated before him,
the sage commenced his discourse.
"I rejoice in your interest in the Navagrahas, my sons. The very intention of
gaining knowledge, by paying heed to the spoken word, is commendable.
The virtue of devotion can be attained through nine paths. When a devotee
listens to words about God, sings his glory, or meditates on his mystical
attributes, God blesses him with the quality of piety. God also gifts devotion
to those who prostrate themselves at his holy feet, worship his divinity and
exalt his greatness. Again, those who render God service, celebrate his
friendship or offer their souls to him are rewarded with a truly devout
nature. Of these, listening to insights about God is considered to be the
supreme path to devotion, as the word firmly directs the listener's mind
towards the Divine."
Nirvikalpananda continued, "It is but right that the stories of the Nine
Planets be universally revered and propagated. The enlightened assure us
that hearing, or reading, these stories is tantamount to worshiping the
Navagrahas themselves."
Vimalananda humbly asked, "Guruji, does this mean that we are breaking
our journey until you complete your sermon?"
"Yes, my boy. Let us focus single-mindedly on this crucial narration."
Sadananda piped up, "Master, I have a doubt."
Vimalanda protested in mock horror: "Not again! It's a miracle that
Sadananda's head remains whole on his shoulders – it is always filled to
bursting with doubts!" The other pupils laughed in unison.
Nirvikalpananda smiled and gently rebuked them. "Doubt is but the
intellectual striving for truth. It is the first step on the path to wisdom.
Prasnopashith , the question-and-answer method of oral instruction, is the
best means of seeking and imparting knowledge."
Turning to Sadananda, the sage gently asked, "What is your doubt, my
boy?"
The disciple replied, "Master, why do people worship the Navagrahas with
such awe?'
"Good question, Sadananda. The Nine Planets are so powerful that people's
devotion to them is tempered liberally with fear! After all, the grahas rule
all living beings from the moment they are conceived in their mother's
womb to the instant they draw their last breath. It is the configuration of the
planets at the moment of birth which dictates an individual's horoscope and
ordains his future. The Navagrahas are the embodiment of the infinite
cosmic energy which turns the wheel of life – the wheel of karma itself.
These nine demigods, worshipped with hymns and prayers in countless
temples, actually circumambulate the corona of the universe constantly,
manipulating every life."
The guru turned his solemn gaze on the upturned faces of his enthralled
disciples. "The grahas define the boundaries of each life. Food, health,
progeny, wealth, education, knowledge, glory – every single attribute of
man is based upon the planets' unshakeable influence. They are the ultimate
arbiters of a man's thought, speech, and deed. Their power over man and his
destiny is set in stone."
As the guru paused, Vimalananda interjected: "Master, in that case, if the
planets do not favour …"
Nirvikalpananda silenced him with a gentle gesture. "I am coming to your
point, Vimalananda." The sage continued, "Yes. If the planets condescend to
look favorably on a man, his life will be filled with joy and harmony. If not,
he becomes a storm-tossed boat, buffeted by inexorable waves of sorrow."
The four disciples digested this in silence.
Then, Chidananda asked, "Master, it is only human beings who come under
the influence of the Nine Planets, right?"
"Not only humans, Chidananda. Demons, deities – every living being in
creation must bow to the fate ordained by the Navagrahas ."
Shivananda asked, "Master, does this include the epic heroes of yore?"
"Yes, my son. No one is an exception to the dictates of the Navagrahas,
including the demigods. Why, the avatars of the Supreme God himself are
subject to their influence."
The disciples gasped in surprise: "What?!" "Master, how can this be?"
"Unbelievable, Master!" "No!"
Nirvikalpananda smiled and continued calmly. "My boys, ponder on the
misfortunes which befell the epic heroes you so revere. What made Rama,
the incarnation of Lord Vishnu, endure fourteen years of hardship in the
forest? Did not King Dharmaraja and his brothers suffer twelve years of
vanavasam and live incognito like paupers for another year? How did it
come about that King Harishchandra was forced to sell his beloved wife
and son and labor as a wretched watchman in a cremation ground? Why
was King Trishanku fated to remain suspended upside-down in limbo for all
eternity?"
"Master, all said and done, the Pandavas and the kings were humans. But,
Lord Sri Rama? It's incredible!"
"Is it?" smiled Nirvikalpananda. "Well, Shivananda, consider this: Sri Rama
learnt the hymn, Aditya Hrdaya, from sage Agasthya and recited this
invocation to lord Surya during his epic battle with Ravana. What does this
imply? Sri Rama needed to propitiate the Sun god and ask him to look
favorably upon his endeavor to defeat the king of Lanka."
The disciples slowly nodded in thoughtful agreement.
"Again, in the case of King Dharmaraja, it was Saturn's malign influence
which resulted in his losing everything, including his kingdom, wealth,
army, brothers and wife, in the notorious game of dice with Sakuni. It was
only the intercession of the Sun god, who blessed him with the
inexhaustible akshaya-paatra, which enabled the Pandavas to successfully
endure their forest exile."
Nirvikalpananda considered his disciples. "Surely, you now understand that
all living creatures, without exception, are under the control of the Nine
Planets."
Vimalananda spoke humbly on behalf of his peers: "Master, your
compelling argument has convinced us of the unparalleled power of the
Nine Planets. We are no longer skeptics."
The master nodded in approval. His voice took on a solemn timbre: "Come,
my children. Let me now tell you the glorious story of the Navagrahas. Let
me lead you on a voyage of discovery which will bestow enlightenment,
and the benediction of the Nine Planets, on you."
Closing his eyes and folding his arms in devout prayer, Nirvikalpananda
intoned his salutation to the Nine Planets:
‘Harih Om!
Adityaadi navagraha devataabhyo namah
Adityaaya cha Somaaya Mangalaaya Budhaaya cha
Guru Sukra Sanibhyascha Raahave Ketave namaha.’
Salutations to Aditya and the other Navagrahas. I offer my salutations
to Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu.
After remaining in silent meditation for a minute, the sage opened his eyes
and said, "My dear disciples, time flows in four great cycles called the
yugas. The Kruthayuga, Trethayuga and Dwaparayuga have passed and
this present age is the Kaliyuga, a part of the Vaivasvata Manvanthara
period of universal time. This cycle applies to all the fourteen lokas, or
planes of existence – Satyaloka, Tapoloka, Janoloka, Maharloka,
Suvarloka, Bhuvarloka, Bhuloka, Atalaloka, Vitalaloka, Sutalaloka,
Talaatalaloka, Mahaatalaloka, Rasaatalaloka and Paataalaloka. The nine
grahas appeared at the beginning of srishti, or creation. Srishti occurred in
the Adi Kruthayuga. Srishti cannot be understood independently of Maha
Pralaya , or total annihilation, as the one is the converse of the other."
Annihilation and Creation
N irvikalpananda continued. "The cosmic phenomenon of Maha Pralaya
raged unchecked for four hundred human years, laying waste to the
fourteen lokas .
"In the first phase of annihilation, a fierce drought ravaged the universe for
a hundred human years. The three worlds were clamped in famine's iron
grip. Bereft of water, the vital element of life, organisms perished in their
entirety and the cosmos was devoid of life. The bone-dry lokas became
tinderboxes poised on the brink of explosion.
"Even as the universe continued to reel under the unrelenting rays of the
sun, there came a fearsome inferno. Lord Shiva assumed the awesome form
of Maha Rudra, and launched into his Rudra Tandava – the fiery Dance of
Destruction. Colossal, insatiable tongues of flame leaped from his gaping
Third Eye and devoured everything in their path. This inferno of dissolution
lasted for a human century and reduced the lokas to piles of blackened
ashes.
"Before the smoldering fires could die out, the third phase of the pralaya
commenced. Ferocious gales tore through the cosmos and these
tempestuous winds roared incessantly for another hundred human years.
Tornadoes and cyclones, in a continuous whirl of destruction, laid waste to
all matter.
"Still unappeased, the pralaya worked itself up to a climax of torrential
rain, which lasted for another hundred human years. Sheets of rain, almost
opaque in density, attacked a cosmos already in the throes of death. A
diabolic group of seven storm clouds merged to form a colossal elephant's
trunk and trumpeted the end of the universe. Samvartaka’s force left a trail
of destruction in its cataclysmic wake. Bheemanaadam’s downpour roared
like frenzied thunder, while Dronam crushed the lokas with its humongous
weight. Indram lashed the universe with knife-edged drops of rain.
Balaahakam was a moving mountain of water and Vidyuthpatakam ripped
apart the desolate wasteland with blinding flashes of lightning. The swirling
rain waters became an ocean of annihilation. The universe lay submerged
beneath the heaving waves. Absolute darkness shrouded the entire cosmos.
All that existed was a monstrous void.
"But wait – in that vast emptiness, like a beacon of hope in the dark night of
despair, floated a single banyan leaf. It shimmered a glossy green against
the dark waters. On its leathery surface lay an infant of incredible, luminous
beauty. Dark curls fringed a face as delicate as a blue lotus. In a gesture of
ineffable charm, the baby boy suckled his own toe, holding it up to lips as
red as the bimba fruit. The infant's eyes were closed in tranquil repose and
the leaf cradled its precious burden, rocking it tenderly even on the stormy
waters of the deluge.
"This exquisite child was none other than Lord Mahavishnu. But, this was
not the beautiful Keshava who floated on the Ocean of Milk, reclining
gracefully on Adisesha's coils. This was Sunya, a lone waif, symbolic of the
Absolute, devoid of attributes, the very essence of being. In the adorable
infant's tiny stomach lay the entire cosmos which the Sustainer had
swallowed for safekeeping. As the baby lay in repose, in the transcendental
consciousness of yoga nidra , or yogic slumber, he embraced all the tired
souls who had wrestled with the cycle of birth and death, experiencing pain,
poverty, strife and sorrow. Gathering them into his compassionate being, the
Lord wrapped them tenderly in the calm of a deep slumber, which was
healing balm to their wounds."
Nirvikalpananda paused. Bowing his head in prayer, his voice brimming
with devotion, he recited,
‘Kara aravindena pada aravindam
Mukha aravindena vinivesayantam
Vatasya patrasya pute sayaanam
Baalam mukundam manasaa smaraami.’
I meditate on that Holy Child who sleeps on the banyan leaf with His
lotus-like foot in His lotus- like hand, placed in His lotus-like mouth.
The words vibrated in the stillness of dawn and seemed to echo from the
waters of the Ganges. The four disciples remained spell-bound by the magic
of their master's voice.
Nirvikalpananda resumed his discourse.
"Mahavishnu awoke from his yogic slumber and prepared to recreate the
universe. Now, in the place of the adorable, sleeping infant, stood the
creator in his awesome Viraat Roopa. His infinite faces, arms and legs
encompassed space as the universal consciousness. Mahavishnu looked
upon the waters of the great pralaya and there emerged from that cosmic
womb, Brahma, as his maanasaputra, or mind-born son.
Brahma opened his curious eyes and gazed in wonder at the majestic form
towering over him. Sri Mahavishnu reassured him: "Kumara! I am Sri
Mahavishnu, from whom everything originates. In my desire to witness the
progression of creation, I have assumed the cosmic form of the Viraat
Purusha. I am Viswa karta and Viswa bharta – the Creator and Lord of the
universe. I, Parabrahma, the Supreme Lord, have given you form as
Brahma, my son, the first being in all creation."
Brahma bowed in reverence and said, "Father, I am honored. Tell me your
will."
"My son, you are the ordained Creator of all life. Hosts of beings await your
touch to come into existence: the god-like devas, the demons, the garudas
and the gandharvas. Give life to the horse-headed kinnaras and
kimpurushas. Let the khechara take flight in the skies, the bhoochara walk
the earth and the jalacharas swim the seas. Go forth and discharge your
sacred duty of srishti."
Brahma's brow furrowed in confusion. "Father, what is the meaning of
srishti ?"
Vishnu expounded on creation. "My son, srishti takes four forms: Sankalpa
srishti, Sandarsna srishti, Sparsa srishti, and Samparka srishti. I have
chosen you to be the instrument of the first form of creation, which is based
on will. The other three forms will be executed independently by various
beings."
The Viraat Purusha continued: "The worlds, with the hills, forests, rivers,
oceans and all other requirements for life, will be generated by the power of
my will. On your part, I decree that you will into being maanasaputras and
their wives. These mind-born sons will not be bound by any ties of
consanguinity. With their wives, they will procreate and fill the worlds with
their progeny."
Brahma bowed in agreement: "Yes, revered Father."
Vishnu gave his son further instructions: "Similarly, to populate Bhuloka,
you are to create Manu and his wife, Manupatni, as the progenitors of the
human race."
Brahma, although eager to please, hesitated and stood before his sire with
downcast eyes. Vishnu gently inclined his head in interrogation.
"Father, forgive my inadequacy. I confess that I have no knowledge of the
act of creation."
The Viraat Purusha smiled and assuaged his son's doubts. "Kumara,
penance is the key to all enlightenment. It will throw light on your duties
and responsibilities and show you the path to their execution. Go forth with
confidence. You will have the right to decree the fate of all your creation.
Let the sequence of creation bring good fortune to the human race. Also, let
the gods of the nine planets, who are currently in their subtle forms in the
upper plane of light, take birth with gross bodies and rule human life. The
happiness of human beings will depend on their worship of these
Navagrahas ."
Even as Brahma paid heed to Vishnu's instructions, his eyes widened in
amazement – all round him unfolded a miraculous panorama of lokas,
oceans, hills, forests and rivers! The Viraat Purusha’s will had taken
concrete form.
Brahma now recollected his own ordained task: Sankalpa srishti.
He closed his eyes in resolve and willed creation. Four sons emerged from
Brahma's volition and looked round in wonder.
Brahma said, "I am Brahma, the Creator. You are Sanaka, Sananda,
Sanatsujatha and Sanatkumara - my maanasaputras, sons of my will."
The four sons stood with respectfully folded hands before their father.
Brahma continued, "Dear sons, I have created you in accordance with the
dictates of my father, Sri Mahavishnu. I will now create women who will be
your spouses and beget offspring through you."
The four young children shook their heads in instinctive negation and
declared in one voice, "Father, we are satwa roopas - forms of pure
goodness."
Sananda said, "Our sole purpose is to gain and disseminate knowledge."
Sanatkumara firmly stated, "We do not wish to procreate."
Sanatsujatha nodded in agreement, "Yes, our only objective is the search for
the jnana of enlightenment."
Brahma heard their joint resolution in astonishment and said, "My sons, you
are of tender age and do not need to be consumed by the thirst for
knowledge yet. Follow my counsel: reach manhood and enter into conjugal
life with women. Then …"
Sanaka determinedly interrupted Brahma's words: "Father, we intend to
remain children and undertake lifelong vows of celibacy as
balabrahmacharins. We wish to roam the universe, spreading the
knowledge of the Vedas."
They made their respectful obeisance to the dumbstruck Brahma and left on
their travel.
Brahma, realizing that his first step in creation had taken an unexpected
turn, contemplated his further course of action. Aware that it was the decree
of the Paramathma which directed every development, Brahma surrendered
to his will and tranquilly resumed his task. He closed his eyes in deep
meditation, assumed a yogic posture, and let the pranava mantra , the
primordial sound 'Om, ' reverberate in his being. His consciousness took
concrete shape as nine maanasaputras, aged twenty-five years, clothed in
pristine white, designed to carry out his will to procreate. Brahma looked at
his mind-born sons with satisfaction.
The young men gazed round them and cried out in bewilderment, "Aarya,
who are you? And who are we?"
"I am Brahma, first-born of Sri Mahavishnu. He has made me both the
Creator and the first creation of the universe. You are Athri, Mareechi,
Bhrigu, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Kardama, Angiras, and Vasishta – my
maanasaputras.”
Brahma smiled at them reassuringly and continued, "My mind- born sons, I
have commenced the cycle of srishti. It is my wish that you, as Brahma's
maanasaputras, produce the various races of devas, gandharvas, kinnaras,
kimpurushas, garudas and rakshasas. Comfortable living arrangements are
in place for you and you will soon be granted wives."
The young men exclaimed in surprise at Brahma's words.
Mareechi asked, "What does 'wife' mean, Oh father?"
Brahma said, "My son, a wife is a man's female counterpart and
companion."
Bhrigu wondered, "Is such a female necessary, father?"
Brahma patiently explained: "Yes, indeed. The act of procreation requires
the male and the female to live in conjugation. This is the secret of creation.
You will understand this natural process in the course of time."
Brahma paused and looked solemnly at his maanasaputras . "My sons, Sri
Mahavishnu has ordained that you, through your children, will be
instrumental in a far-reaching phenomenon – the birth of the Nine Planets."
The young men, conscious of the importance of Brahma's words, listened in
rapt attention.
The Creator continued, "The Nine Planets, who currently reside in spirit
form in the luminous tejomandala of anthariksha, will be born to your sons
with gross physical bodies and glorious forms. These Navagrahas will
bestow power and prestige on all living creatures, most particularly on the
human race. They will influence both the subtle and gross contour of men's
lives, effectively ruling all their thoughts and actions. The Nine Planets will
be the dispensers of joy, sorrow, poverty, wealth and every other aspect of
mortal life. The Supreme Lord, in his mercy, has provided man with a
reliable path to better living - the worship of the Navagrahas ."
The maanasaputras, as one, bowed their heads in reverence to Brahma.
Vasishta, speaking for them all, asked, "Father, what is your will?"
"My sons, go forth and make your homes where you wish in this beautiful
cosmos. Dedicate your lives to meditation on the Supreme Soul who is the
Creator and Father of the Universe. Meditation is the key to enlightenment.
It will dispel all your doubts and guide you in the fulfillment of your future
duties. As I continue with the cycle of srishti , you will be provided with
wives who will be your partners for life. With them, begin your task of
begetting children filled with devotion to Lord Vishnu."
The maanasaputras replied in unison, "Father, we bow to your wishes."
Brahma smiled in satisfaction at the nine young men, so eager to obey his
command, and bid them a fond farewell. "My sons, may the Supreme God
bless your endeavor."
Brahma went back to the task ordained by Lord Vishnu. As he sank into
deep meditation, his entire being again throbbed with the pranava mantra ,
'Om. ' There emerged from his right thumb a twenty-five year old male,
clothed in flaming red. Simultaneously, a young damsel, draped in white,
materialized from Brahma's left thumb.
Brahma gazed upon his new creation and addressed the man: "Son, you are
Daksha prajapati – my maanasaputra.”
Turning to the woman, he said, "You are Prasooti, created to be Daksha's
wife."
As the couple bowed in reverence, Brahma continued, "Daksha, take
Prasooti's hand in your own. With this, you are now husband and wife. Live
together in harmony as the ideal couple and beget progeny. May Lord
Vishnu make your union fruitful."
Daksha and Prasooti received Brahma's blessing with respect and set forth
to carry out his command.
Brahma again resumed his sacred mission of srishti , closing his eyes in
meditation and reciting the Omkar . A movement on his lap made him open
his eyes in surprise: a charming infant gurgled up at him.
Brahma's heart melted in affection as the little boy's ruby-red lips lisped,
"Narayana!"
Brahma cradled the baby in his arms and smiled tenderly. "Child, you are
Narada, my son."
To which the baby again chanted, "Narayana!"
Holding this precocious infant before him, Brahma peered intently into his
cherubic face. Before his amazed eyes, the baby metamorphosed into a
twenty-five year old individual.
Brahma collected himself and said, "Narada, dearest of all my
maansaputras , take your choice of the beautiful damsels in my creation
and make her your wife. It is my wish that you beget multitudinous progeny
with her."
Narada made but one joyous reply: "Narayana, Narayana, Narayana!" He
paused and smiled up at Brahma, saying: "Father, my desired life-long
companion is the holy chant, 'Narayana!' The only progeny I need is the
bliss that fills my soul when I recite the Lord's name."
The confounded Brahma exclaimed: "Narada!"
"Father, will you kindly explain the significance of the name you have
given me?"
Brahma calmed himself and patiently replied, "My son, I have chosen a
very meaningful name for you. Narada signifies 'The Dispenser of
Knowledge of the Supreme Soul.'"
"Tell me, father, should I not live up to that blessed name? Is it not fitting
that I disseminate knowledge to all the worlds – instead of progeny to a
wife?"
Brahma reddened with rage. "Narada, this is willful disobedience. I warn
you – your intransigence cries out for punishment."
Narada smiled beatifically and bowed his head. "A father's discipline is but
a boon to a son! I accept your sentence, father."
Brahma's face was suffused by the indignant passion of rajoguna . He
pronounced his curse in thunderous tones: "Narada! Your arrogance
condemns you to wander the lokas as an eternal bachelor. You will never
experience the repose of abiding in one place."
Narada remained blissfully unperturbed and declared, "I am indeed blessed.
My permanent bachelorhood, and constant travel, will better equip me to
inspire widespread devotion to Lord Sri Mahavishnu. Reciting the glorious
chant, 'Narayana, Narayana,' will be my cherished mode of penitence."
Narada bowed in gratitude before Brahma and departed happily on his
eternal pilgrimage.
As the chant, 'Narayana, Narayana,' faded into the distance, the bemused
Creator thought, 'My dear son, Narada, has consecrated himself to the Lord.
This is in accordance with Mahavishnu's divine will. So be it. I can but
accede to the Supreme God.'
Brahma resumed the task of creation. There emerged from his will a man
and a woman, both radiant in pristine white attire.
Brahma addressed the young male: "I am your father, Brahma, the son of
Sri Mahavishnu. You are my maanasaputra – the child of my will."
The man respectfully greeted Brahma: "My pranam to you, father."
Brahma smiled and went on: "Listen carefully, my son. I am known as
Svayambhuva , or the self-manifested. As you have inherited a part of my
essence, I hereby name you Svaayambhuva – son of Brahma. I also confer
on you the illustrious title of 'Manu.' As the primogenitor of the Manu-
group of my maanasaputras, you will be known as Aadi Manu ."
Brahma then turned to woman standing beside Manu. "My dear child, you
are Satarupa Devi. I also name you Yuva Devi, to connote your youth and
extraordinary beauty."
"My grateful respects, father," replied the woman.
Brahma commanded his son: "Svaayambhuva, take Satarupa as your
consort. Through your conjugal union, mankind will emerge and populate
the earth in large numbers. As your descendants, this race of humans will be
known as Maanavas ."
Manu bowed in acknowledgement.
Brahma continued, "The human race will experience four stages of life –
childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age and end with death. Go forth
and fill Bhuloka, the earth, with your progeny."
Manu asked, "Father, where can I find this earth you speak of?"
The Creator explained, "My son, your first step towards accomplishing your
task is the attainment of knowledge. This will enable you to define the laws
by which your descendants should be governed in order to ensure peaceful
and happy lives. Penance is the sole instrument by which you can gain
insight into your prescribed tasks. Take Satarupa and commence your tapas
anywhere you choose. In time, I will enlighten you and show you the
earth."
Having blessed and sent the couple on their way, Brahma sighed in deep
satisfaction. The seeds of creation had been sown and the foundation laid
for the emergence of the Navagrahas in material form. Svaayambhuva
Manu and his other maanasaputras and prajapatis were on course to
perform their prescribed duties. He had fulfilled all the tasks assigned to
him by his Father, Lord Vishnu. Brahma smiled and let himself sink into the
repose of tranquil meditation.
The wheel of time continued on its inexorable, eternal voyage.
Brahma's various maanasaputras united with the spouses created for them.
Atri, Kardama, Bhrigu, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Angiras and Vasishta
married Anasuya, Devahuti, Khyathi, Bhuthi, Sambhuti, Kshama, Sraddha
and Urja respectively. In fecund effervescence, all the lokas teemed with
progeny.
A daughter, Kala, was born to Kardama prajapati and Devahuti. As
instructed by Brahma, through sage Narada, Kardama gave Kala in
marriage to Mareechi, one of the maanasaputras. A son, Kasyapa, was the
fruit of their union.
Meanwhile, Daksha prajapati fathered five thousand sons, called the
Haryaswaas. This he did, not through connubial relationship with his wife,
Prasooti Devi, but by exercising his will and emulating Vishnu and Brahma
who had created maanasaputras and prajapatis .
Sage Narada, on hearing of Daksha's presumptuous misadventure,
interceded. The sage met the five thousand Haryaswaas and won their
hearts with his wise discourse. He exhorted them to strive after knowledge
and seek to decipher the secrets of the cosmos. Spell bound by Narada's
magnetism, the Haryaswaas set out in search of enlightenment and lost
themselves in their eternal quest.
The grief-stricken Daksha now created another thousand maanasaputras
the Sabalaawaas. Again, the sagacious Narada employed his powers of
persuasion to dispatch the prajapatis new progeny on a quest to uncover
the great secret of the universe.
Daksha, coming to know of Narada's role in the disappearance of his six
thousand maanasaputras, cursed the sage: "Narada, just as you sent my
sons on eternal voyages, so may you be a perpetual wanderer."
Of course, this malediction was merely redundant to Narada, who already
happily shouldered Brahma's curse.
The sorrowful Daksha approached Brahma and complained bitterly about
the loss of his sons and Narada's perfidy.
Brahma placated him, saying, "Daksha, Narada was but an instrument of
my will." Brahma went on to explain his stand: "Sankalpa srishti – creation
by will, is the primary mode of creation. This greatest and noblest form of
creation is the exclusive prerogative of the Supreme God, Mahavishnu, and
myself, as his son. No other hands, including yours, can reap the benefit of
Sankalpa srishti ."
Daksha bowed his head in shame. "Father, I emulated you in my ignorance.
Guide me in the task you have assigned to me."
Brahma said, "Son, listen carefully. There are three other methods of
producing progeny: Sandarsna srishti, in which the mere look of the male
can impregnate the female. This comes into play in the case of the peacock.
In Sparsa srishti, which is observed in fishes, the female conceives at the
mere touch of the male. In the fourth and last method of procreation,
Samparka srishti, offspring are produced by the conjugal, genital union of
male and female bodies. Just as the havis, the ritual offering, is placed in the
pit of the sacrificial fire, the male inserts his seed into the female's womb,
where it fertilizes her egg, develops and takes birth as his progeny."
Brahma paused and looked at Daksha: "It is this intimate method of
creation which establishes blood relationships among beings, and engenders
strong bonds of affection between parents and their offspring. Daksha, I
expect you to adopt Samparka srishti to create progeny with your wife,
Prasooti. Go and fulfill your obligation towards me who endowed you with
life and form."
Daksha bowed in acceptance and saying, "Father, I am now enlightened as
to the right path of creation. I will carry out your decree," he set out to do
his duty.
In due course, Prasooti Devi gave birth to Sati, who became Lord Shiva's
consort. Prasooti then bore Daksha thirteen daughters: Aditi, Diti, Danu,
Vinata, Kadru, Simhika, Krodha, Krura, Kapila, Muni, Anaayu, Kaala and
Praadha. Daksha prajapati gave them in marriage to Kasyapa, the son of
Mareechi and Kala.
Kasyapa and his thirteen wives were blessed with numerous progeny.
Aditi bore Indra and other demigods, called the devas or aadityaas – sons
of Aditi.
The daityas , or sons of Diti, were Hiranyaksha, Hiranyakasipu and Vajraka.
With their negative, taamasic qualities, they became the forebears of the
rakshasas , or demons. Danu gave birth to the daanavas , another demon
clan, which included Mayaasura, Viprachithi, Sambara, Namuchi, Puloma,
Asiloma, Virupaksha and others. The rakshasa clan was further increased
by the sons of Anaayu – Vikshara, Bala, Veera and Vrtasura. Again, the
demon kaalakeyas , Vinaasaka and Krodha, were born to Kaala, while
Krodha, another wife, gave birth to asuras called krodhavasas .
Muni became the mother of Bhimasena, Ugrasena and others of the
gandharva clan. Praadha also bore a number of gandharvas .
Krura bore Suchandra, Hantha and Chandra, while Kasyapa's other wives
delivered birds and animals as their offspring.
As they grew into adulthood, the diametrically opposed innate qualities of
Kasyapa's sons generated an intense rivalry among them. His progeny
coalesced into antagonistic groups based on inherent temperament. Indra
became the leader of the devas and gandharvas, while Hiranyakasipu and
Vrtasura wrested control of the various asura factions.
The deeply perturbed Kasyapa tried to unite his sons in amicable
brotherhood and dispensed knowledge and good counsel impartially to
them all. But his efforts were in vain: increasingly virulent clashes erupted
frequently between the hostile deva and asura factions. Soon, these two
groups became sworn enemies and could no longer live together in
comfortable proximity.
The daityas and other demons set out to establish an independent rakshasa
kingdom in the dense forest. Following their lead, the aadityaas and their
clan proceeded to found their own deva kingdom under Indra's sovereignty.
With heavy hearts, the helpless Kasyapa and his wives saw their warring
progeny go forth into the world.
Desiring luxurious accommodation, the young rakshasas, Hiranyakasipu
and Vrtasura, approached their brother, Maya, and said, "Brother, we
require magnificent residences befitting our position as sovereigns. You are
best suited to build us royal palaces and splendid cities."
Maya immediately undertook penance to propitiate Brahma.
When the Creator appeared before him, Maya said, "Pithamaha, grant me
the knowledge and skill needed to make me the greatest architect of the
cosmos for all eternity."
The curious Brahma asked, "Maya, why do you seek this particular skill?"
"Grandsire, my daitya, daanava and kaalakeya brothers intend to establish
great demon empires. I have been chosen to build grand palaces, fit for
them as sovereigns."
Brahma frowned thoughtfully and cautioned him: "Maya, I need not remind
you that Indra and the other devas are also your siblings. They too plan to
found their own divine empires. I will make you the greatest architect in the
cosmos – on one condition. You must deploy your skill impartially on
behalf of both your rakshasa and deva brethren."
Maya accepted this stipulation and Brahma granted him magical skills
which made him the chief architect of the universe. Maya constructed cities
and palaces, which were incredible marvels of engineering, for both devas
and asuras. The deva and demon empires grew apace and flourished.
The bellicose Hiranyaksha, eldest son of Diti, without the least provocation,
declared war on the deva, gandharva, kinnara and kimpurusha clans.
Armed with a formidable club, the asura went on the rampage and
established his reign of terror over all the lokas. To extend his sovereignty
over the oceans, Hiranyaksha entered the deep sea and violently threshed
the waters with his club, creating tumultuous waves which submerged the
earth.
At this juncture, Svaayambhuva Manu, accompanied by his wife, Satarupa,
had comprehended his assigned task of creating human beings. However, to
his confusion, he could not locate the earth in which he was ordained to
begin his duties.
Manu approached Brahma: "Father, I am prepared to fulfill my ordained
responsibilities. But the earth is nowhere to be found!"
Brahma said, "Manu, in ages past, I created the earth as an appropriate
habitat for the human race. The misguided Hiranyaksha, son of Diti and
Kashyapa, has embarked on a course of destruction and is holding the earth
captive underfoot in the vast ocean. It is beyond my power to reclaim the
earth from the asura . Lord Srihari is our only recourse in this
predicament."
Brahma closed his eyes in fervent prayer. There emerged from his right
nostril a tiny, white boar – this was none other than Sri Mahavishnu coming
to the succor of his creation. In an instant, the miniscule creature
metamorphosed into a colossal beast. Blazing like the sun, the animal dove
into the waters with a thunderous roar, met Hiranyaksha in ferocious
combat and gored him to death. The gigantic boar then rose triumphantly
from the oceans, holding the earth tenderly between its pristine tusks, and
replaced her in her designated place in the cosmos. With this, the Swetha
Varahakalpa – the Age of the White Boar – commenced.
Svaayambhuva Manu and Satarupa began their connubial life together and,
through them, the human race populated the earth.
Part 1
The Birth of
the Navagrahas
The Birth of Surya
L ord Vishnu's destruction of Hiranyaksha incensed the asuras,
particularly his twin brother, Hiranyakasipu, who took a terrible oath: "I
swear to avenge my brother's death by slaying his killer. Vishnu, beware!"
The rakshasa’s all-consuming hatred of Vishnu was shared by Diti, their
mother, who passionately berated Vishnu for his role in her son's death.
Kasyapa consoled his grieving wife saying, "Diti, take heart. Anyone who
poses a threat to the existence of the three worlds must perish at the hands
of Sri Mahavishnu, the universal Father and Protector – this is the
immutable law of the cosmos. Hiranyaksha was indeed fortunate to meet
his death through the Supreme Lord. Believe me, my dear, our son has been
granted redemption from his sins."
Aditi, on her part, was filled with deep remorse at the estrangement of her
sons and their cousins.
Vinata and Kadru tried to console her, while Diti declared: "Sister, just as
fledglings fly away from the nest once they have sprouted their own wings,
so do children depart from home. Look at me: my children have left me; my
beloved son has been killed by Vishnu. Yet, I staunchly bear my pain and
soldier on."
Danu added, "Sister Diti is right. The only path open to us all is to accept
our situation stoically and cope with our grief."
However, Aditi would not be comforted. As she sat in pensive sorrow under
a tree, Kasyapa came to sit beside her. He took her hand in his and said
gently, "Aditi, my wife, it is time you stopped tormenting yourself with the
pain of parting with your children. After all, union and separation is the
unchanging law of nature. Our sons have departed to build their own lives.
This is but fitting and must be accepted gracefully by us all."
Brushing away her tears, Aditi said, "Swami, it is not the physical
separation from our boys which grieves me. My heart bleeds to see our sons
– children of one father and one family – torn apart by envy and hatred, and
filled with mutual hostility."
Kasyapa gave a helpless sigh and remained silent.
Suddenly, Aditi sat up: "Swami, will you grant me a wish?"
Kasyapa said fondly: "Of course, my dear. It is my bounden duty as your
husband."
Aditi said, "Then, bless me with a child who is devoid of hatred, envy,
partiality and unjust discrimination. Grant me a son who holds at heart the
welfare of the entire universe."
Kasyapa calmly replied, "Aditi, I can but remain a father to the children
who are the cause of your sorrow. Only Mahavishnu, the Father of the
universe, can grant your wish."
Aditi exclaimed in wonder, "Mahavishnu, Swami ?"
"Yes, dear. Only the Supreme Being has the power to bless you with a child
of such sterling character."
Aditi frowned in doubt: "Swami , will the great Mahavishnu condescend to
listen to my prayers?"
Kasyapa reassured her with a smile saying, "Aditi, you seek a boon for the
benefit of all the three worlds. God always looks with favor on such
altruism. Confidently begin your penance to Mahavishnu."
Aditi touched Kasyapa's feet in respect and asked his blessings on her
endeavor.
"May Lord Vishnu grant your wish," said Kasyapa solemnly.
Aditi withdrew into the seclusion of a tranquil ashram and immersed
herself in rigorous penance. The intensity of her tapas astounded even
Kasyapa, himself a seasoned practitioner of austerities. Aditi merged with
nature and her entire being pulsated with the holy name of Lord Vishnu. In
an instant, Sri Mahavishnu stood before her.
Moved to tears by the Lord's apparition, Aditi cried, "My God, you have
come!"
Vishnu smiled in benediction: "Aditi, the ardour of your penance has
captured my heart. What do you want from me?"
Aditi, voice hoarse with emotion, said, "Lord, you are the Paramathma:
surely you know my heart's desire?"
Vishnu's eyes twinkled in merriment. "My child, indeed I can read your
mind like an open book. But the voice of my devotees is sweet music to my
ears. Let me hear your wish."
"Bhagavan, this is my humble request: Bless me with a child whose heart is
unsullied by hatred, jealousy and discrimination. Let him dedicate himself
to the betterment of the entire universe."
Mahavishnu smiled and said, "Aditi, your wish is granted. Look up at the
sky."
Aditi gazed skywards in puzzlement.
"Who do you see there, Aditi?"
"Surya Bhagavan is shining among the clouds, my Lord."
"Now look around you, Aditi. What do you see?"
"Lord, I see a thorn bush and a flowering plant."
"Aditi, do the golden sunbeams spread their warm light equally on both the
coarse thorns and the captivating blossoms?"
Realization dawning slowly, Aditi whispered in awe: "Yes, my Lord."
"Surya's impartial gaze falls on all creation with the same benign
magnanimity. Devoid of envy and hatred, he strives perpetually for the
upliftment of the universe. He is the child you seek." Vishnu smiled at the
enthralled Aditi and continued: "Surya is a colossal, luminous orb in the
galaxy. He also resides in my right eye in his ethereal form. This glorious
being will be born as your son."
Aditi exclaimed, "God, I am indeed fortunate!"
"Yes, Aditi. It is my wish that the Navagrahas, who are pure incandescence,
be incarnated in physical form to be worshipped by the human race on
earth. You are blessed to be the instrument of my will. Surya, who is a part
of my essence, will soon be your son. Grant him the reverence which you
accord me."
As Aditi closed her eyes and bowed low in immense gratitude, Mahavishnu
vanished. Aditi ran to give the joyous tidings to her family.
Kasyapa embraced her and said, "Aditi, you are indeed abundantly blessed.
Follow the Supreme Lord's instructions and commence your worship of
Surya at the earliest."
Aditi's twelve sisters excitedly discussed the new developments.
Vinata said, "Surely, Sister Aditi is the luckiest of us all! Lord Vishnu
himself has granted her an audience. And now, Surya is to be born as her
son!"
As the admiring group clustered round Aditi, Diti sniggered aloud and said,
"Hah! Has it perhaps slipped Aditi's mind that she has a god-like husband
who can grant her progeny at will? Why would anyone choose to go
through the tribulation of penance to propitiate another god? It appears that
Aditi is a glutton for punishment!"
Danu, Simhika and Kaala laughed and clapped their hands in glee at Diti's
mockery.
Kasyapa frowned darkly and angrily reproached his wife: "Diti, your taunt
only demonstrates your own arrogance and your abject ignorance of Lord
Sri Mahavishnu's greatness. He is the eternal Father of the cosmos: it is he
who created Brahma, who in turn gave life to your father, Daksha prajapati,
and my father, sage Mareechi. When the resplendent Surya is also none
other than Vishnu himself, it is blasphemous to belittle the worship of Surya
Bhagavan !"
Aditi quickly intervened, saying, "Swami , forgive Diti – it is only her
innocence which makes her speak thus."
Diti spat out at her: "Sister Aditi, I do not need you to be my champion! I
can take care of myself, thank you!" Diti continued in a voice dripping with
sarcasm, "Oh yes! Vishnu is our forefather. Obviously, that is why he
decided to assume the form of a wild pig and kill Hiranyaksha, his great
granddaughter, Diti's, dearest son. What an affectionate grandfather he is!"
Diti sniffed in disdain and stomped off, followed by her coterie of
supporters. Vinata, Kadru and Muni remained protectively around Aditi.
Vinata clasped Aditi on her shoulder and said, "Sister, ignore Diti's
outburst. A great miracle waits to be manifested through you. As our
husband advises, start your obeisance to Surya."
At an auspicious time designated by Kasyapa, Aditi embarked on her
worship. Oblivious to the pangs of hunger and thirst, and the passage of
time, she immersed her entire being in single-minded meditation on the sun
god. Her devotion elevated her to a spiritual plane in which time, space and
causation ceased to be relevant. As she hovered in a transcendental state
beyond darkness and light, a sweet voice penetrated her consciousness.
"Mother!"
Aditi stirred.
"Mother!"
Again, the mellifluous voice clamoured for attention. Aditi emerged from
her trance and opened her eyes. There before her was a whirling, radiant orb
of light. Aditi's entire being was swamped by a mystical tide of joy.
She whispered in tremulous tones, "Who – who are you?"
The same honeyed voice emanated from the luminescent disc: "Mother, it is
me, Surya. You reached out to me through the silent yearning of your
psyche and I have answered your call!"
Aditi exclaimed in delight: "Surya Bhagavan! You heard my prayers!"
"I share your longing for me to be your son. Mother, let me be cocooned in
the snug warmth of your womb."
Aditi, moved to tears by the tenderness of these words, stood speechless, as
the adorable voice again echoed from the brilliant sphere: "Cradle me
gently in your lap, mother, and feed me the milk of sweet nourishment and
divine bliss."
Voice choked with emotion, Aditi said, "O my divine son – dearest child of
my heart! How fortunate I am!"
"I am equally fortunate, mother. Return to the ashram and await my arrival.
I will not be long."
The radiant orb disappeared. Aditi looked round her in awe. It struck her
that she had gazed at the blinding disc of light without once blinking her
eyes. Nor had she paid obeisance to Surya Bhagavan! Her pang of remorse
was quickly extinguished by a tender smile. She thought, 'Never mind –
after all, I am his mother!'
Aditi hurried back to the ashram , where she soon showed signs of growing
pregnancy. The presence of the god of light in her womb was reflected in
the resplendent glow which cloaked her body. Her face blossomed like the
luminescent full moon. She bore the weight of her pregnancy sedately and
joyfully continued to perform her duties to Kasyapa.
Observing her moving heavily about her chores, Vinata said, "Sister Aditi,
it is not right that you take so much upon yourself in your delicate state. Let
us take care of our husband."
Kadru too spoke out in support of Vinata: "Yes, sister. Rest assured that we
will attend to our lord's every need."
Kasyapa himself condoned their stand saying, "Yes, Aditi. When you carry
Surya, the god of light, in your sacred womb, it is not appropriate that you
continue to perform menial tasks like a servant. Let Vinata and Kadru
relieve you."
Vinata and Kadru served Kasyapa with single-minded devotion. Late one
night, Kasyapa awoke from a deep slumber to find the two women gently
pressing his legs in the darkness.
He exclaimed in surprise, "Vinata and Kadru, are you not asleep yet?!"
His wives replied in unison: "Swami , serving you is our best repose."
Greatly move by their selfless devotion, Kasyapa smiled affectionately at
them and said, "Your dedication warms my heart. I wish to grant each of
you a boon. Name your desire."
Elated at this unexpected bounty, the generous Vinata said, "Sister Kadru,
make your wish first."
Kadru pondered for a moment. Then, "Swami , grant me a thousand sons,
with long, gleaming, limbless torsos. Let them slither lissomely across the
ground …"
Kasyapa interrupted her: "Kadru, stop! Do you know what you are asking
for?"
Kadru smiled in calm confidence. "Indeed, my lord, I am clear that I wish
to bear naga kumaras as my sons."
Kasyapa remonstrated with her: "Kadru, I beg you to reconsider: your wish
for serpent sons is bizarre, to say the least. Let me grant you another gift."
However, Kadru stood her ground and staunchly declared, "Swami , this is
the only boon I ask of you."
Kasyapa sighed resignedly and said, "Well, my wife, if that is what you
truly wish, so be it." He turned to Vinata. "And you, Vinata, what is the
boon you desire from me?"
Vinata replied solemnly, "Lord, grant me two sons who will surpass Kadru's
serpent progeny in valour and might."
Kasyapa inclined his head in blessing, "So be it, Vinata."
Deeply perturbed by the turn of events, Kasyapa hurried to Satyaloka and
sought Brahma's counsel.
"Revered grandsire, what does Kadru's boon portend? I am filled with
dread."
Brahma reassured him, saying, "Kasyapa, fear not. Remember that it is the
supreme will of Sri Mahavishnu which presides over all the cosmos. The
Lord has ordained that, in addition to the various devas, gandharvas and
asuras , you and your wives will also beget miscellaneous other beings like
birds, animals, cattle and reptiles."
"But, Bhagavan … " Brahma interrupted the agitated Kasyapa with a
soothing wave of his hand.
"I understand the reservation you have in producing serpent offspring
whose venom will pose a fatal hazard to all other forms of life. But, calm
yourself. I will duly teach you the means of saving the victims of snake
bite. Go in peace and fulfill your wives' boons."
The relieved Kasyapa bowed before the Creator and returned to his ashram
.
One auspicious day, in the predawn hour, Kasyapa stood knee-deep in the
calm waters of the river, immersed in meditation. Facing the east, he
performed his ritual morning ablution.
At the same time, Aditi's twelve sisters gathered to attend to her
confinement. As the labour advanced, the mother's birth pangs were
miraculously experienced, not as pain, but as pleasure!
The glow of dawn painted the sky in soft pastel shades of red and gold and
the entire ashram was enveloped in radiant warmth. Just as the rays of the
rising sun flared above the horizon, Surya, foremost of the Navagrahas ,
took physical form as the virtuous Aditi's infant son. Lord Vishnu's decree
came to pass. This was truly a red letter day in the annals of the infinite
cosmos.
Even as the three worlds celebrated the sun god's advent, in Vaikuntha – the
Abode of Bliss, the reclining Lord Vishnu sat up abruptly and gazed
thoughtfully into the distance.
Sri Mahalakshmi, beauty incarnate, looked up questioningly at her consort.
"Swami, your mind is far away."
Turning His serene face towards her, Lord Vishnu held out his hands:
"Lakshmi, come here and tell me what you see in my right eye."
Lakshmi approached him and gazed into the profound depths of his right
eye. Smiling playfully, she said, "The only thing I see is my own image
reflected in the lotus petal of your vision, my Lord."
Lord Vishnu gently shook his head in disagreement, the gleam of gold from
his crocodile-shaped makara kundalas rippling across his exquisite blue
cheeks. He said, "No, my beloved, you know very well that your place is in
my heart."
Lakshmi's voice trembled with emotion: "Yes, my Lord, I am Vishnupriya. I
am ensconced in your heart for all time. I pervade every atom of your body.
We are inextricably merged - You and I are but parts of one indivisible
whole."
Lord Vishnu nodded in benign agreement. "Well said, dearest. Our sublime
union transcends all reason and emotion: it is beyond interpretation."
Lakshmi smiled. "Well, my Lord, now that I accept that I am not in your
right eye, tell me who is the fortunate one who resides there."
Lord Vishnu said, "Lakshmi, Surya abides in my right eye in his ethereal
form."
Mahalakshmi exclaimed: "Of course, my Lord! I know that you guard the
sun in your right eye and the moon in your left. However, I must admit that
losing myself in ecstasy in the fathomless depths of your lotus- eye
sometimes makes me forgetful!"
Mahavishnu chuckled and continued, "Lakshmi, I have glad tidings for you.
Surya has taken birth in physical form."
Lakshmi smiled mischievously. "In that case, Swami , Surya is no longer in
your eye. You were wrong earlier!"
"No, my queen. Surya will continue to reside in my eye for all eternity."
"Is that so? But, if Surya is born elsewhere, and also remains in your eye,
his radiance will be diffused – he will lose much of his luster."
"My dear, let me demonstrate the fallacy of your argument. See the two
lamps before us. Use one lamp to light the other."
Lakshmi laughed. "My Lord, both the lamps are already burning merrily!"
"Look again, dearest. One of them has deliberately snuffed out its own light
– it looks like it yearns to be lit by your lovely hand!"
Lakshmi looked suspiciously, first at her consort's twinkling eyes, and then
at the now unlit lamp. With infinite grace, she picked up the burning lamp
and lit the others' wick. Lord Vishnu came to stand close behind her.
Encircling her within his arms, he bent to rest his chin gently on her
shoulder.
"Now, observe the lamps carefully, my love. You have used the flame of
one to light the other. Has the first lamp diminished in radiance?"
"No, my Lord."
Sri Mahavishnu led her to seshatalpa – the serpent bed. Sitting beside her,
he cupped her glowing face tenderly in his hands and said, "Although one
lamp was lit with the flame of the other, both lamps burn with undimmed
brilliance – like your sparkling eyes, my beloved!"
The Lord smiled and continued: "The light of the lamp is inexhaustible.
Similarly, our original divine essence is infinite – it is a limitless avyaya
form of the Godhead. When we choose to assume various avatars , the
original moolarupa wholly retains its power and dimension."
Vishnu went on: "In the ages to come, you and I will take numerous
avatars. Through all these incarnations, our original forms will remain
unaltered, without losing an iota of sublimity."
Mahalakshmi wondered: "So, Surya, who is shining here ethereally in your
right eye, is also shining undimmed somewhere else in a gross form!"
"That is the inexplicable truth of my creation, Lakshmi," said the Lord.
Lakshmi leaned forward in interest. "Tell me, Swami , where and to whom
has Surya been born?"
"At the start of creation, I decreed that the Navagrahas, who reside in space
as spiritual beings, should assume gross bodies so that the human race can
gain merit through their worship. My will is now taking concrete shape with
Surya's birth as the son of the virtuous Kasyapa and his consort, Aditi."
"Your will is supreme, my Lord. And when will the other eight grahas take
their avatars ?"
Vishnu's eyes sparkled as he teased, "There is a time and place for
everything, my queen."
Lakshmi rose indignantly, but bit back her spirited resort as the familiar
"Narayana! Narayana!" echoed through Vaikuntha.
As always, sage Narada followed hot on the heels of his fervent chant and
bowed in deep reverence before the divine couple.
Smiling in benediction, Lord Vishnu asked, "So, Narada, how are you?"
"In the best of health and spirits, Bhagavan – thanks to you! What have I to
fear when protected by the armor of your grace? After all, you shower your
blessings unconditionally on your devotees, as Nirhetuka Krpa."
Mahavishnu laughed appreciatively. "Narada, your words remain as sweet
as your melodies."
"My Lord, you gifted me this mahathi as soon as I commenced my sacred
yagna of singing the glory of your divine name. Words and music are fused
in my being – as long as both my tongue and my lute are but instruments of
the chant, 'Narayana!" no harm can come to me."
Mahalakshmi, familiar with the workings of the sage, smiled. "So, Narada,
what brings you hurrying here?"
"Mother, I bear tidings of great import!"
Vishnu asked in amusement: "And you think this breaking news has not yet
reached our ears?"
"Narayana! You are omniscient! But, surely, you will not deny Narada, your
humble devotee, the pleasure of being your herald?"
Vishnu laughed and said, "Narada, it is always a pleasure to hear you! Go
ahead and make your announcement."
Narada bowed in acknowledgement and said, "My Lord, the pious lady
Aditi has given birth to a son. The father, Kasyapa, plans to hold the
naming ceremony at his ashram ."
"That is indeed good to hear, Narada. Go and invite chaturmukha Brahma,
Lord Shiva, Indra and others to join the celebration. Let the universe rejoice
at the birth of Surya, the harbinger of happiness."
With a joyous, "Narayana!" Narada hurried to spread the good tidings.
Kasyapa's ashram wore a festive look, as a resplendent celestial host filled
its humble precincts. Lord Vishnu, Lord Shiva and Brahma stood apart with
Mahalakshmi, Satidevi and Saraswati. Sage Narada, accompanied by Indra,
paid obeisance to the divine couples. An unceasing tide of devas and
maanasaputras, together with their spouses, joined them in homage.
Kasyapa bowed before the Supreme God, saying, "Bhagavan, our son is the
precious gift of your grace to Aditi and me. Bless him with a name of your
choosing."
Lord Vishnu said, "Kasyapa, my gift belongs not only to you and your wife,
but to all animate and inanimate creation. Your son is the incarnation of
Surya, the foremost of the Navagrahas. He will rule the planets as he moves
through the twelve signs of the zodiac."
Vishnu paused at the puzzled Kasyapa's interruption: "Lord, what are these
twelve signs of the zodiac?"
Brahma explained, "Kasyapa, Sri Mahavishnu has willed that all the stars
which shine in the heavenly firmament form constellations in the shape of
Mesham, Vrhsabham, Mithunam, Karkatakam, Simham, Kanya, Thula,
Vrichikam, Dhanas, Makaram, Kumbham and Meenam – corresponding to
the ram, the bull, the twins, the crab, the lion, the virgin, the scales, the
scorpion, the bow, the goat, the water pot and the fish."
Lord Vishnu continued, "Your son, Surya, will move through these dozen
signs of the zodiac over a period of twelve months, or one human year. He
will reside for one month in every sign, or raasi. In each raasi, he will be
known by a different name – these twelve names will be collectively called
the Dwaadasa Aadityas."
Vishnu turned to his fellow gods: "ParamaShiva, Brahma and I will now
pronounce Surya's names."
Lord Shiva smiled and nodded in agreement: "Mahavishnu, we await your
lead."
Aditi came forward and handed the infant to Vishnu with great reverence.
The Lord smiled down at the gurgling baby. Mahalakshmi then cradled the
child in her own arms, tenderly kissed his radiant forehead, and placed him
gently on an elevated dais.
Vishnu closed his eyes and intoned "Om !"
Even as the sound of the primordial mantra lingered in the air, the Lord
looked down at the child and pronounced the first name: "Dhaata!" The
onlookers held their breaths in wonder as a second child, identical to the
original baby, appeared on the dais. Before they could release their
collective breath, Vishnu announced, "Aaryama!" A third baby lay before
their amazed eyes! Vishnu continued – "Mithra!" "Sakra!" With each name,
a new infant materialized on the dais.
Lord Vishnu then turned to Brahma and beckoned him forward.
The Creator intoned, "Varuna! Amsumanta! Bhaga! Vivasvan!"
Lord Shiva stepped forward in his turn and proclaimed, "Pusha! Savitru!
Twashta! Vishnu!"
Each name pealed with bell-like clarity in the hushed atmosphere. The
spell-bound assembly gazed in awe as a new child appeared on the platform
with the pronouncement of each name. When Lord Shiva announced the
final name, "Vishnu!" a dazzling array of twelve identical, beautiful infants
lay side by side before them.
The onlookers' excited murmurs subsided when Narada strummed his lute.
As the sage melodiously chanted Surya's twelve names: "Dhaata! Aaryama!
Mithra! Sakra! Varuna! Amsumanta! Bhaga! Vivasvan! Pusha! Savitru!
Twashta! Vishnu!" every one at the august gathering showered the infants
with fragrant blossoms and yellow rice grains, as the ritual akshata for a
long life.
Mareechi, Kasyapa's father, paid obeisance to Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma
and said, "The Holy Trinity has blessed our Surya with auspicious names. I
am indeed fortunate to be the grandfather of the god of light."
Lord Vishnu smiled at him. "Mareechi, your daughter-in-law, Aditi,
performed her penance with the noble purpose of obtaining a child who
would treat all creation with impartial munificence. As the result of her
altruism, she is blessed to be the mother of the king of the grahas. Aditya,
the son of Aditi, will be the shining sovereign of the Navagrahas and will
be worshipped by all."
"So be it!" Shiva and Brahma intoned in unison.
Aditi gazed fondly on the twelve adorable infants, her heart overflowing
with love. She longed to gather them all into her arms and let them suckle
to their tiny stomachs' content. Even as she reached out to embrace them,
her twelve babies merged into one! Aditi cradled her radiant son in her lap
and lifted him tenderly to her breast, crooning a lullaby, a beatific smile
lighting up her face.
The charming infant filled Kasyapa's household with joy. Aditi and her
sisters lavished all their care and affection on the growing child. In no time,
Surya was leading them on merry chases, as he crawled energetically about
the ashram . To their wonder, a nimbus of light constantly illuminated the
ground beneath the child.
One day, as Aditi wove a garland of flowers for the morning worship,
Simhika came running to her with Surya in her arms. Aditi looked up at the
urgency in her voice.
"Sister Aditi, look – the child's body is burning! I am unable to bear the heat
– take him."
Aditi took her son and said, "No, Simhika, I can find nothing out of the
ordinary in his warmth."
Simhika insisted, "No! My hands are still flaming with his touch!"
Hearing her cry, Kasyapa came and felt his son's brow. Frowning, he said,
"Aditi, Simhika is right – Surya's body is excessively hot. It must be a
fever."
As the days passed, Surya's high temperature persisted, although he
remained as active and cheerful as ever. Kasyapa and Aditi, worried over
this abnormal development, were clueless as to its cause or remedy.
As they fretted one day, Vinata ran to them in excitement: "Swami , sage
Narada is here!"
Kasyapa hurried out and greeted the distinguished visitor with folded hands.
"Narayana!" Narada blessed Kasyapa with his invocation of the Supreme
God.
Kasyapa respectfully seated the sage on a mat of darbha grass and said,
"Maharshi , we have missed your darshan these past months – you last
blessed us with your presence at Surya's naming ceremony."
"Yes, Kasyapa, I have not passed this way for quite a while. By the way,
how is the child?"
Kasyapa sighed heavily. "Swami, I must confess that I am very anxious
about Surya. He has a persistent fever. In spite of all the remedies we have
tried, his temperature remains abnormally high."
"Is that so? Take me to the boy." Sage Narada followed Kasyapa into the
ashram, where he found Surya engaged in boisterous play, with Aditi
panting to keep pace with her son's boundless energy.
Chuckling, Narada looked around him in surprise. He remarked, "The very
air of the ashram seems to possess a strange sparkle!"
Kasyapa replied, "Yes, Maharshi – right from the day of his birth, Surya has
been surrounded by a brilliant halo of light."
Narada gently picked up the lively child and gazed intently into his
upturned face. To Kasyapa's surprise, the sage did not comment on the heat
emanating from Surya. Narada seated himself on the raised dais in front of
the house, holding the boy in his lap. He looked up at Kasyapa and Aditi
and smiled, "So, our little beam of sunshine is spreading light everywhere,
is he?"
Aditi said, "Yes, Swami . As he grows, his splendor increases in intensity."
"That is as it should be, Aditi. After all, the dissemination of light is Surya's
innate trait."
Kasyapa agreed: "Yes, Maharshi , that's true."
"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage with a laugh. "Well, Kasyapa, if light is an
inherent part of Surya, surely you will agree that heat is also an inseparable
attribute of his being?"
Realization dawned on Kasyapa. "Maharshi, you mean…"
"Yes, Kasyapa, the heat which radiates from Surya is natural – not a fever,
as you fear. Remember that Surya is the dispenser of heat and light, both
essential for the survival of the universe."
Aditi and Kasyapa sighed in relief as the weight of anxiety lifted from their
hearts. Narada handed the child to Aditi, who carried him into the house.
The sage turned to Kasyapa. "It is time to commence Surya's education.
You will be his guru. Teach him the six angassiksha (pronunciation),
vyaakarana (grammar), chandas (prosody), nirukta (explanation of obscure
terms), jyothisham (astronomy) and kalpam (religious rites)."
Kasyapa bowed in agreement.
Narada continued: "Let him learn the four Vedas. Impart to him the
scriptural knowledge of Meemansa , Nyaaya , Sabda , Dharma , Artha ,
Ayurveda and Dhanurveda, and the Puranas as delineated in the Sastras."
Kasyapa could not hide his surprise.
Narada smiled at him and said, "Surya is destined to be the universal
benefactor. Mastery of all the above eighteen vidyas is essential to equip
him for this role. Kasyapa, your son will excel you in the acquisition,
containment and dissemination of wisdom."
"So be it, Maharshi. Every father wishes to see the son to excel the parent."
Kasyapa fell silent and then heaved a sigh of remorse. "Maharshi , my heart
continues to ache when I consider that I have failed in my duty as a father
towards my other sons."
"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed. "Kasyapa, it was the will of my revered
father, Brahma, that your sons establish the deva and daanava kingdoms.
Although they are mutually antagonistic, they live happily in their
independent realms."
"Maharshi , does this mean that you have visited my sons recently?"
"Yes, Kasyapa. In my role of celestial courier, I wander from one end of the
cosmos to the other. Of course, keeping abreast of the workings of the rival
factions in one of my priorities!"
"I am very happy to hear this, Maharshi . Please keep my sons in your
care."
"Narayana! That is beyond my brief! Leave them to their own devices,
Kasyapa. What must be, will be." Narada exhorted the dejected Kasyapa:
"Come, Kasyapa, take heart from your good fortune in being Surya's guru.
Better to impart wisdom to one worthy son than to educate a thousand
undeserving ones."
Kasyapa, soothed by Narada's wise counsel, commenced Surya's education.
With his vast intelligence and willingness to learn, Surya mastered the
eighteen vidyas in an incredibly short period of time. The light of
knowledge added extra luster to his naturally radiant countenance. His
impartial treatment of all creatures earned him universal respect. As Surya
reached adolescence, his statuesque physique, enhanced by his charming
smile, endowed him with the exquisite beauty of the golden dawn.
One day, Aditi sat on the ashram's raised dais, watching her beloved son in
the distance. Kasyapa, returning from the forest, emptied a basket of
flowers and twigs on the darbha grass mat and sat beside her.
Looking at Surya in rapt adoration, Aditi said, "Swami , how handsome our
son is!"
Kasyapa smiled fondly at the proud mother. "Yes, Aditi, Surya's beauty is
indeed divine."
"I wonder which lucky girl is going to be his wife!"
Kasyapa started to reply, but stopped short as the lotus buds in the heap of
flowers beside him suddenly unfurled their flushed petals and bloomed into
renewed life. He looked up and smiled to see Surya standing before him.
"Father, give me the twigs. I will prepare them for the sacrificial fire."
Surya took the sticks and went indoors, his parents' affectionate glances
following him.
"Narayana! Narayana!"
They turned expectantly at the call. It was Narada, strumming his lute in
accompaniment to his holy chant. Kasyapa and Aditi rose hurriedly and
welcomed the sage with folded hands, pressing their warm hospitality on
him.
Narada settled down on the dais and observed, "As I walked among the
clouds, your son Surya was visible even from a great distance as a dazzling
pillar of light. His beauty grows by the day!"
Kasyapa laughed with fatherly pride. "Maharshi , Aditi and I were just
commenting on Surya's extraordinary good looks."
"Well, did you also discuss his coming marriage?" asked Narada.
Aditi replied, "Swami, that is not in our hands. God has to will it."
"God has already willed it, Aditi. A few days back, I saw a beautiful girl,
suitable for Surya in every way."
"Swami ! Really? Tell me all about her - who is she? Where did you see
her?"
Narada laughed at Aditi's excitement and continued: "I suppose you know
Viswakarma?"
Kasyapa nodded: "He is the divine architect Prabhaasavasu's son, right?"
"Correct, Kasyapa. Viswakarma is the son of Varastri and Prabhaasavasu,
the last of the eight Vasus. Their eldest daughter, the beautiful Samjna,
seems to be made for Surya."
Aditi turned to Kasyapa. "Swami, maybe you should approach Viswakarma
and Varastri?"
Narada smiled. "I have already sounded them out in this matter, Aditi.
Prabhaasavasu and his wife have heard glowing reports about Surya, not
only from various individuals, but also from the four mouths of Lord
Brahma himself. They are eager for this match."
Kasyapa said thoughtfully, "We will have to ascertain the girl's wishes."
Narada's eyes twinkled. "That too has been done, Kasyapa! I gave her
parents an account of Surya's sterling character and beauty and then
repeated it to Samjna in private. She did not have to utter a word - her
glowing eyes said it all!"
Aditi laughed in merriment. "Oh, Maharshi! You have come to us with
everything arranged!"
Kasyapa joined in her mirth. "Well, Aditi, that is sage Narada's inimitable
style! He arranged our marriage in the same way." He smiled at his wife in
fond remembrance.
"Kasyapa, if you want further assurance, let me tell you that I also
overheard Samjna expressing her eagerness to wed Surya." A mischievous
smile flitted across Narada's face. "Of course, I just happened to standing
behind a hedge in the garden when she confided in her mother!"
Kasyapa chuckled in delight. "Maharshi, I think it would be best if you
spoke to Surya about Samjna. After all, you are the one who can give him a
first-hand account of the girl's charm and beauty."
Narada agreed saying, "Indeed, that is the very purpose of my visit. I will
then arrange for Viswakarma to visit you."
With Surya's consent, arrangements for the marriage were made. Surya and
Samjna were wed in a glittering ceremony at Viswakarma's palatial abode,
in the presence of the Trimurtis – Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara, and
their consorts. All the attendant devas, maanasaputras, prajapatis and sages
showered the new couple with blessings for long, happy lives and many
children.
At Sri Mahavishnu's suggestion, Viswakarma built a beautiful palace for his
beloved daughter and son-in-law. Made of pure gold, it emblazoned the vast
reaches of outer space.
Surya and his new bride took their leave of Kasyapa and Aditi. Surya bid
farewell to his aunts, assuring them that he would always answer their
summons instantaneously.
Fondly embracing his weeping mother, Surya said in solace, "Mother, it is
my duty to fulfill Sri Mahavishnu's will."
Kasyapa gently led Aditi away, reminding her: "Aditi, my dear, every
circumstance of Surya's life has been ordained by the Lord. When you
asked for a son who would be the universal benefactor, you put yourself
above the natural self-interests of a mother. Wherever he may be, Surya's
presence will always light up our lives."
Surya and Samjna were flooded with an immeasurable tide of love for each
other.
To Surya, every move of Samjna's lissome body was an enchanting dance;
her doe-eyed glances became searing darts of love; the seductive swaying
of her long, raven-black braid made his eyes light up in pleasure; her ruby
lips smiled in tender promise of things to come.
Samjna entered the bed chamber with her graceful, swan-like gait. At every
step, her anklets beat a sensuous tattoo on the gleaming floor. Seeing Surya
reclining on the couch, her heart melted with affection and a shy smile
played about her parted lips. She softly closed the golden doors and snuffed
out the lamp on its stand: the brilliance which constantly emanated from
Surya made its light redundant. She seated herself beside her husband.
Head bowed shyly, she said tremulously, "Swami , I want something from
you. Will you grant my wish?"
Heart blazing with affection, Surya tilted up her chin with a tender hand and
said, "Samjna, my beloved, all you have to do is ask. It will be yours."
She gazed adoringly into his radiant eyes. "Swami, I want three children
from you – two boys and a girl."
Surya laughed: "So clear on that, my love?"
She flushed, but replied spiritedly: "Yes, my lord."
Surya gathered her into his arms.
Samjna caressed his broad chest and whispered, "Swami, I adore the touch
of your body. Its intoxicating warmth kindles the fire of passion in my
heart."
Surya held her close against him. "And you, my love, are a varavarnini ."
"And what is that, my lord?"
Surya's lambent voice was a caress in itself. "A varavarnini is a beautiful
woman whose precious body blesses her husband with life-giving warmth
in winter and soothing coolness in summer."
An exquisite flush spread over Samjna's delicate cheeks.
Surya continued with a smile: "Samjna, you are not only my varavarnini ,
but also my varaaroha ."
His wife looked up in mock sternness – "Yet another unknown term, my
lord … and what does this one mean?"
Surya erased the charming frown on her face with his gentle fingers and
laughed. "This time, your long braid is best qualified to give you an answer
– after all, it is more intimate with the contours of your beautiful hips than I
am!"
In reply, Samjna hid her blushing face against her husband's chest.
The Birth of Chandra
N irvikalpananda paused and looked at his disciples. They remained
motionless, unwilling to stop the flow of their master's captivating
chronicle.
Nirvikalpananda smiled and continued. "Well, my sons, I can see that you
are ready to hear about the advent of the second of the grahas – Chandra."
"Yes, master," the four young men chorused eagerly.
"Chandra is also known as Aatreya, or son of Atri. Do you remember Sage
Atri?"
Chidananda quickly replied, "Yes, master. You mentioned that he was one
of Brahma's maanasaputras ."
"Excellent! Then you will also recall that he married Anasuya. Who was
Anasuya?"
Sadananda urged him on: "Please tell us, master."
‘Anasuya was the daughter of Brahma's maanasaputra, Kardama, and his
wife, Devahuti. Anasuya was a chaste and virtuous wife to sage Atri. For
many years, they remained childless. The miraculous birth of Anasuya's
sons is a wonderful tale."
So saying, Nirvikalpananda started on the second part of his narrative.
Sage Atri returned to his ashram with the grass and twigs necessary for his
ritual worship. He gratefully accepted the cup of cool water Anasuya held
out to him and smiled at his wife. No answering smile erased the lines of
despair on her face.
‘Anasuya, my dear, what's wrong?"
Anasuya looked up at him in sorrow. "Swami, you know my heart's desire."
Atri sighed helplessly and gazed into his wife's lovely face. The vermillion
tilak was an autumn moon on the shapely crescent of her forehead. Her
luminous eyes were dark pools under the delicately arched eyebrows. Her
lips were tender, crimson petals. The gracefully draped saree emphasized
her slim waist … Atri stopped short: the same slender waist reminded him
that it was yet to bear the precious weight of pregnancy.
"Swami, what are you looking at?"
Atri emerged from his reverie and chuckled. "Now, Anasuya, as a faithful
husband, which other woman can I look at, except my own wife? My
dearest, you grow more beautiful by the day!"
A fleeting smile appeared on Anasuya's face, only to be engulfed by sorrow
once more.
"Swami , without bearing fruit, beauty is but an empty husk." She paused. "I
have faithfully performed every rite and propitiated all the gods in order to
be blessed with children. Tell me . what more can I do?"
Atri reached out to her and held her close. "My love, now you can serve
your husband."
She looked up at him questioningly.
Atri continued: ‘Anasuya, let me remind you: when Brahma created me as
his maanasaputra, he decreed that we would have abundant progeny. His
promise will not be in vain. We will be blessed with children when the time
is ripe. Let us be patient."
Anasuya's eyes gleamed with the faint stirrings of hope. "Swami, do you
believe this?"
"Of course, dearest," Atri said firmly. "Your virtue is peerless. God always
grants a virtuous wife's wishes."
There was a trace of sarcasm in Anasuya's voice as she replied, "Swami, I
sometimes fear that suffering is the only lot of a virtuous wife."
Atri exclaimed, "What makes you talk like this, Anasuya?"
"Swami , earlier this morning, Seelavathi was here."
‘Ah … you mean Ugrasravas' wife?"
"Yes, my lord. Seelavathi's virtue and loyalty to her husband are unmatched.
She truly lives up to her name – the chaste one!"
"I have heard that Ugrasravas is a man corroded by evil in both body and
soul."
Anasuya's voice trembled with pity. "Yes, Swami . Seelavathi is young and
exceptionally beautiful. Her husband is an old man, afflicted by leprosy.
Yet, she serves him as if he were god."
"The poor lady. It seems that Ugrasravas is possessed by the rage of despair.
I was told that he is so eaten up with jealousy that he insists on
accompanying his wife when she goes begging."
"Yes, Swami – she carries his rank-smelling body in a basket on her head
and ekes out a living on the meagre alms she receives." Anasuya continued
bitterly, "Now, Swami , I'm sure you will agree that virtuous wives get more
than their fair share of trials and tribulations!"
Atri attempted to cheer up his wife. "Well, Anasuya. We know that precious
gold must endure the heat of the furnace and the blows of the hammer
before it is transformed into a beautiful ornament."
"So, do you think Seelavathi will become a lovely ornament?"
Atri smiled. "Not only Seelavathi, my dearest … Anasuya too!"
Seelavathi draped a fresh saree around her thin body and applied the
vermillion tilak on her forehead. She picked up the string of fragrant
flowers a kind lady had given her earlier in the day and braided it into her
long plait.
A coarse shout assaulted her ears. "Woman! Where are you?"
She hurried to her husband. "Here I am, Swami."
Seated on a rough hempen bedstead in a corner of the mean hut, Ugrasravas
glared balefully at his wife. ‘And may I know whose eyes you seek to
please with your fresh flowers and elegant saree ?"
Seelavathi blanched at his tone. "Swami , we have been begging on the
streets since dawn. My clothes were drenched with sweat and grime. You
abhor bad odor. So, I took a bath and …"
Ugrasravas cut her off with a curt, "Enough of your stories! I'm starving.
Will you give me my food or persist in wasting time with your blathering?"
"Just give me a moment, my lord." Seelavathi returned with a makeshift
lamp – a rag wick floating is a small saucer of oil. As she used her hand to
shield the feeble flame from the wind, the light illuminated her glowing
face, highlighting its exquisite features. Ugrasravas drew in his breath
sharply at this vision of his wife's ethereal beauty, as Seelavathi gracefully
bent to light a larger lamp near the bed. Even devoid of any ornamentation,
her loveliness shone through her like an inner flame.
Yes, his wife was indeed beautiful, Ugrasravas thought. An involuntary sigh
escaped his lips. It was his misfortune that Seelavathi's very devotion had
blighted any chance of his loving her. The extreme purity of her blind love,
devoid of passion, had repelled him right from the start of their married life.
Ugrasravas shook his head and turned his greedy attention to the food
Seelavathi placed before him. Helplessly dependent on his wife, he waited
impatiently, scowling at her. As tenderly as she would a little child,
Seelavathi fed him small mouthfuls from the plate.
Between bites, Ugrasravas shouted, "What is this, woman? Am I a baby to
be fooled with tiny morsels of food? I suppose you are doing this
deliberately to blunt the edge of my appetite: you sly creature – you plan to
gorge on the remaining food yourself!"
Seelavathi calmly said, "Swami , you are teasing me - you know very well
that I feel no hunger till you have eaten your fill."
Ugrasravas roared angrily, "Then feed me bigger portions." Continuing to
scold his hapless wife between hungry mouthfuls, he soon finished his
supper. He then asked, "Is there more food?"
Seelavathi sadly replied, "I'm afraid that is all the food we received as alms
today, Swami."
Belching loudly, Ugrasravas shouted at her: "Ever since I had the
misfortune of marrying you, I have been fated to endure the pangs of
unappeased hunger. You disgust me!"
Seelavathi silently removed his plate. Coming back, she said: "Please lie
down and rest, Swami. Let me massage your legs."
Ugrasravas looked up suspiciously. "Why such eagerness to put me to bed?
Have you planned a little moonlight rendezvous after lulling me to sleep?"
"Swami ! Please! You know that you are everything to me. And today is the
night of the new moon …"
Ugrasravas barked furiously. "Oh, shut up!" He continued thoughtfully: "By
the way, I notice that you always hurry past a particular house without
stopping to ask for alms. Why do you do that?"
"I prefer not to beg there," Seelavathi said quietly.
"Why, you fool – that is obviously the home of a wealthy person."
"Swami , that house belongs to a prostitute. It would be sinful to receive
alms from her."
Ugrasravas sat up in excitement. "What! I have sometimes glimpsed a
charming woman through the windows. Is she the prostitute you are talking
about?"
"Yes, my lord …"
Ugrasravas wondered aloud: "Oh, such a lovely face! And a body almost
divine in its beauty!"
Seelavathi said soothingly, "Swami , you must rest. Forget about that
woman."
But her husband was lost in a miasma of lust. He murmured softly, "My
eyes are dazzled by her memory. I cannot close them in repose until I have
drowned in the pleasure of her beautiful body."
Seelavathi cried out in alarm: "Swami, what are you saying?"
Ugrasravas turned to her angrily. "What's wrong in what I have said? It is
no sin to visit prostitutes. These women only satisfy a natural, necessary
craving in society."
Seelavathi protested in horror: "Swami , but …"
Her husband exploded in rage: "No buts, woman! Do you think you can
satisfy my body by constantly parroting ‘Swami, Swami’ in my ears? Do
you dare to disobey your husband? I command you to take me to her
immediately!"
Controlling her tears, Seelavathi pleaded, "Please listen to me, my lord.
Prostitutes must be paid for their services. You know we have no money
…"
Ugrasravas roared, "Don't I know that I am a pauper? Yet, we don't starve,
do we? You don't mind cramming me into a basket, come rain or shine, and
begging for alms, right? Well then, just do the same now – beg the
prostitute to bestow alms of pleasurable delight on your husband."
Seelavathi was speechless in horror.
Ugrasravas continued to rave: "Fall at her gorgeous feet! Beg her to satisfy
my passion! Tell her you will pay her fees by gathering alms from
everyone."
"Swami , you are ill. Let me …"
"Shut your mouth! It is the sight of your simpering face which paralyzes my
limbs. The pleasures of her body will be a panacea for all my ills. Now,
move! Get my basket!"
Like a maniac, Ugrasravas rolled about on the bed and struggled to come to
his feet. Seelavathi sighed in resignation. Placing him in his customary
position in the basket, she lifted her burden on to her head and walked
towards the village with a heavy heart.
Ugrasravas, immersed in happy anticipation of the pleasures to come,
luxuriously stretched out his legs. Suddenly, a cry of indescribable anguish
rang out in the darkness of the new moon night, making Seelavathi stop
short. As she strained her alarmed eyes, the vague outline of a human
figure, impaled high up on the point of a vertical spike, was discernable in
the gloom.
A hoarse male voice moaned, "Hear me – the thoughtless boor who kicked
me will himself undergo excruciating torment. He will die when the sun
rises. This is the immutable curse of Sage Mandavya!"
Ugrasravas murmured in fright, "My leg hit someone, I think."
Seelavathi's blood turned to ice in her veins. Who was Sage Mandavya?
Would his curse come true?
Nirvikalpananda paused. His disciples waited in breathless anticipation,
fascinated by the panorama unfolding before their mind's eye.
Vimalananda, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out: "Master, who
was this Mandavya who cursed Ugrasravas?"
"My son, Mandavya was a great sage. One day, he was absorbed in deep
meditation in his ashram, arms raised skywards in a yogic posture. A band
of robbers, fleeing with their booty, stumbled upon his hermitage and
concealed themselves there without his knowledge. The king's soldiers soon
arrived there in hot pursuit, and urgently interrogated the sage. Mandavya,
who was under a vow of silence, stoically ignored them. A systematic
search of the ashram soon revealed the hidden culprits. Assuming that
Mandavya was actually one of the band, and was hoping to evade capture
by cleverly posing as a sage, the soldiers arrested him, along with the
robbers.
"At the palace, the king sentenced the thieves to immediate death. In the
case of Mandavya, the angry king ordered that he be impaled on the point
of a spear thrust vertically into the ground. Since then, the sage had lingered
on in prolonged anguish, to be further tormented by Ugrasravas' accidental
kick."
‘Hear me – the thoughtless boor who kicked me will himself undergo
excruciating torment. He will die when the sun rises. This is the immutable
curse of Sage Mandavya!'
The dark thunder of Mandavya's curse crashed repeatedly in Seelavathi's
ears.
Her husband squealed like a frightened child: "Did you hear that? Someone
has cursed me! I will die at sunrise. Take me home, take me home at once!"
As if in a trance, Seelavathi reflexively obeyed her husband and started
walking home.
‘He will die when the sun rises … when the sun rises … when the sun rises
…' the ominous words echoed in her heart, sounding the knell of doom.
On his part, Ugrasravas lamented loudly, tearing his hair: "Oh, what shall I
do? When the sun rises, I will die! "
‘When the sun rises … ' a strange thought surfaced in Seelavathi's mind:
‘What if the sun did not rise?'
Seelavathi stood still. She straightened her statuesque figure. Her eyes
gleamed resolutely. She held her head up high and proclaimed: "If it is true
that I worshipped god alone as my husband before my marriage, and my
husband alone as god after my marriage; if my chastity and virtue are truly
beyond reproach – then, may the sun never rise again!" Seelavathi's voice
resonated with bell-like clarity through the silent night. She then walked
home with her husband.
The power of Seelavathi's incomparable chastity transformed her words into
instant reality. The sun failed to rise and the cosmos was plunged into
absolute darkness. Life everywhere came to a standstill. Sacred rituals
could not be performed. The gleeful rakshasas , empowered by the absence
of light, went on the rampage. Indra and the devas were unable to fathom
the cause of this sudden calamity.
As they milled about in confusion, a blessed sound reached their ears:
"Narayana! Narayana!"
It was sage Narada. As the gods milled round the sage, clamouring for an
explanation, Narada narrated the story of Seelavathi.
Indra immediately set out for earth, declaring confidently, "I will make that
woman lift her absurd curse at once!"
Narada stopped him. "Wait, Indra. That is easier said than done Ugrasravas
is not only old and afflicted by leprosy, but also evil – yet, the chaste
Seelavathi reveres him as god. She will never consent to let her husband
die."
Indra asked anxiously, "What do we do, Narada?"
"Come, let us seek the counsel of Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara."
The devas, accompanied by Narada, trooped to Satyaloka and explained
their predicament to Brahma.
The Creator advised: "This is matter of such import that it requires the joint
deliberation of the Trimurti. Let us all go to Sri Mahavishnu."
They reached Vaikuntha, along with Maheswara.
There, after a moment of thoughtful silence, Sri Mahavishnu said:
"Mahendra, the formidable strength of Seelavathi's chastity and virtue
renders us all powerless. Of course, if Mandavya withdraws his curse,
Seelavathi will relent in her turn. However, the sage's curse is irrevocable."
Indra exclaimed in alarm: "My God, is there nothing we can do?"
Vishnu smiled and continued: "Anasuya, wife of Brahma's maanasaputra,
Atri, is Seelavathi's equal in virtue. Your only recourse is to ask Anasuya to
plead with Seelavathi to revoke her curse in order to preserve the universe.
Go, Indra. May success be yours!"
Parameswara intervened: "Mahendra! Tell Anasuya from me that it is her
duty to ensure that the sun rises for the well-being of all mankind. She must
convince Seelavathi to withdraw her curse."
Brahma added his voice: "Yes, Mahendra. Tell Anasuya that this is the
united command of the Trimurti ."
Indra saluted the Holy Trinity and left on his mission, accompanied by
Narada.
Atri and Anasuya warmly welcomed them into their ashram and listened
gravely to their explanation for the sun's absence. The couple was
astounded to learn that Seelavathi's curse was responsible for this
cataclysmic disruption of the cosmic cycle.
Narada concluded saying, "Oh, Anasuya! It is your duty to persuade
Seelavathi to retract her curse."
Indra added, "Yes, mother – this is not only our humble request, but also the
Trimurti’s command. We are but their messengers."
Atri turned to his wife: "Anasuya, my dear, will you try to convince
Seelavathi to withdraw her curse for the universal good?"
Anasuya replied: "Swami, if the sun rises, Ugrasravas will die. Seelavathi
would never consent to voluntarily bring about her own husband's death."
The anxious Indra said, "Oh, mother, can you not persuade Seelavathi to
relent? The Trimurti assured us that you are the only one capable of
accomplishing this task."
Anasuya remained immersed in deep reflection for a while. Then, she said:
"I will convince her – but on one condition."
Indra eagerly asked, "What is your condition, mother?"
"Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara must come in person to ask me to
intervene in this matter."
Atri, Narada and Indra stood in perplexed silence at her unexpected request.
"Narayana!" Narada recovered first. "That's not a big deal! All we need is
for Mahendra to pray to the Trinity for their presence."
Indra immediately looked skywards with hands raised in homage, calling
out to the Trimurti .
Atri followed his wife indoors and said, "Anasuya, what is the meaning of
this? Summoning the Supreme Gods here!! What do you plan to do?"
Anasuya smiled enigmatically: "Swami, I plan to make them play."
Before her puzzled husband could question her further, a strong wind
gusted through the ashram , bringing in its wake a divine fragrance. The air
shimmered with a corona of celestial light. From that splendid disc, the
Trinity emerged and held out their hands in blessing to Atri and Anasuya.
The pious couple, speechless in awe, made humble obeisance to the
Trimurti – they reverentially washed the gods' lotus-like feet in a basin and
sprinkled the used water on their own heads as holy teertham .
Vishnu then addressed Indra: "Mahendra, why did you summon us here?"
"My Lord, Anasuya stipulated that the Trimurti must appear before her in
person – only then will she intercede with Seelavathi on our behalf."
Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara smiled and nodded benignly.
Sri Mahavishnu said, "Anasuya, you must persuade Seelavathi to rescind
her oath."
Brahma added, "Yes, Anasuya, this is of utmost importance to the well-
being of the entire cosmos."
Maheswara joined in with, "Convince Seelavathi to let the sun rise,
Anasuya."
Anasuya bowed in deference and said, "My Lords, I will faithfully execute
the task you have given me. In return, I beg you to grant me three boons."
Vishnu's eyes twinkled mischievously as he looked at his fellow-gods. "Of
course, as Anasuya knows, everyone is powerless before a virtuous wife!
Surya had to bow to Seelavathi's oath – now we three must accede to
Anasuya's wishes!"
Parama Shiva smiled. "We will grant her the boons she desires."
Brahma agreed, "So be it!"
Vishnu turned to Anasuya: "Go to Seelavathi, my daughter. We will await
your return and bestow three boons on you."
Thus did Anasuya, Atri's virtuous wife, bind the Trimurti with the
indestructible bonds of devotion and chastity.
"Seelavathi! Seelavathi, my daughter!"
On hearing Anasuya's call, Seelavathi hurried out from her mean hut.
Touching Anasuya's feet in respect, she said, "Bless me, mother."
Anasuya replied, "Long may your husband live." Taking the young
woman's hands in her own, Anasuya said, "Seelavathi, I come here to ask a
favor of you."
"Mother, your wish is my command."
"My daughter, it is time to revoke your curse and release the sun from
bondage. You must do this for the preservation of the universe."
Anxiety clouded Seelavathi's face. "Mother, if the sun rises, my husband
will die."
"Seelavathi, you heard me give your husband the blessing of longevity.
Believe in the power of my virtue."
"Mother!" Seelavathi cried out in anguished doubt.
Anasuya smiled at her reassuringly. "My daughter, tell me – would your
own mother wish to see you a widow?"
Seelavathi hesitated. Then, folding her hands in respect, she resolutely said,
‘Mother, I place my trust in you."
Turning to the east, Seelavathi closed her eyes in prayer for a moment and
declared, "If I am indeed a chaste and virtuous wife, let the sun rise now!"
Even as her last word lingered in the air, a flare of red dispelled the
darkness of the horizon. The sun had risen! Seeing the morning light,
Seelavathi ran into the hut – Ugrasravas lay lifeless on the cot!
"Swami!" Seelavathi's anguished cry rang out in the silence. Ignoring the
heart-rending wail of pain, Anasuya hurried back to the hermitage, which
was now glowing in the flush of dawn. Atri embraced her with fond pride.
The Trimurti extended their hands in blessing.
Lord Vishnu said, "Anasuya, you have removed the veil of darkness which
shrouded the universe. We are indebted to you. Name your three boons, my
daughter."
"Bhagavan, these are my first two wishes – they require instant
gratification. Let Seelavathi's husband come back to life. Second, let him be
a devoted husband, free from the blight of leprosy, and blessed with youth
and good looks."
"Granted!" Vishnu responded immediately.
Indra chuckled in admiration. "Mother Anausya is indeed not only a
virtuous wife, but also a woman of boundless wisdom!"
Brahma smiled and asked, "And what is your third wish, Anasuya?"
Anasuya walked forward slowly with a sober face. She stood before the
Trinity and looked up at them with eyes brimming with emotion. Holding
out the edge of her saree towards them, in the humble stance of a beggar
asking for alms, Anasuya quietly said, "You, my Lords – Brahma, Vishnu
and Maheswara – grant me the boon of residing in my womb and taking
birth as my three sons."
For a moment the three gods remained completely nonplussed. Then they
looked at each other and turned as one to Anasuya: "So be it!"
Anasuya's eyes overflowed with tears of joy. Along with her husband, now
flooded with happiness himself, Anasuya paid grateful obeisance to the
Trimurti.
Vishnu smiled at them, saying, "Anasuya, we will take birth as your sons
and fill your home with play and laughter. As listed by you in your wish,
Brahma will be your first-born, followed by me. Maheswara will be your
third son."
Anasuya listened in joyful wonder.
Vishnu continued: "Atri, you and your wife are indeed fortunate. The
beautiful moon which illuminates the night sky in its ethereal form will
assume a gross body and become your eldest son. He will be Chandra –
none other than Brahma, the Creator, himself!"
The Supreme Lord paused and then said: "In due course, I myself will take
birth as Datta, your second son. I will also be called Dattatreya, or son of
Atri. Finally, Parameswara will be born to you as Durvasa."
Voices trembling with joy, Atri and Anasuya said, "We are blessed, my
Lord!"
Brahma turned fondly to his maanasaputra, Atri. "Dear son, at an
auspicious place and time of your choosing, place your seed in Anasuya's
womb – just as ghee is poured in libation into the pit of the sacrificial fire."
Atri humbly said, "I will follow your command, father."
As the pious couple bowed in reverence, Brahma blessed them: "May your
three wishes be fulfilled!"
The other celestials chorused, "So be it!"
Atri and Anasuya raised their bent heads to find themselves alone.
Atri embraced Anasuya in joyous pride, saying, "Anasyua, you are truly
blessed! Your fame will endure until the end of time." He chuckled. "Only
now do I understand your words about making the Trimurti play! My
beloved, the Holy Trinity will indeed play in our laps!"
Before his wife could reply, a cry was heard: "Mother!"
Anasuya and Atri turned to find Seelavathi at the threshold of the
hermitage, hand in hand with a handsome young man. The beaming
Seelavathi introduced her companion as her husband, Ugrasravas.
Seelavathi fell into Anasuya's arms with tears of joy. "Mother, I owe you
my husband's life and my happiness. Due to your intercession, he is now
free from the scourge of leprosy and is in the prime of youth. I can never
repay my debt of gratitude to you!"
Anasuya embraced her and chided her tenderly: "There is no room for
gratitude in a daughter's love for her mother! It is the Trimurti you should
thank, Seelavathi. Your husband's rebirth is but the deserved fruit of your
peerless chastity and the Gods' grace."
The young couple fell at the feet of Atri and Anasuya, invoking their
blessing.
Anasuya advised Ugrasravas: "Seelavathi has remained your devoted wife,
patiently enduring all the hardship of your former miserable existence. Be
good to her, my son."
Atri added, "Ugrasravas, a husband can reciprocate his wife's precious gift
of devotion only with own true affection."
Ugrasravas promised, "Father, we will strive to emulate you and Mother
Anasuya in our marriage."
Affectionately holding hands, Seelavathi and Ugrasravas embarked on their
new conjugal life. Atri and Anasuya exchanged contented smiles as they
watched them leave.
Atri's eyes slowly took on a tender glow - fragments of Brahma's command
wafted in his mind: ‘the sacrificial fire … place your seed …' Atri turned
and walked expectantly into the sleeping chamber.
He drew a sharp breath at the exquisite picture that met his eyes. Anasuya,
her complexion glowing like ivory, lay on the spotless white sheets of their
bed. Atri's heart quickened with passion. She was the lodestar of his life. To
bear Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara in her womb … to suckle them, to
raise them … she was his goddess of good fortune. Through her, he would
father the Holy Trinity!
Atri stepped forward silently. The bed was awash in silver. His wife was a
voluptuous nymph floating on the softest of clouds. Atri gazed through the
open window at the radiant full moon hanging low on the horizon. This
celestial being was to be born as his son! The same iridescent moon which
illuminated the skies would soon light up his home! He turned back to
Anasuya's glowing face – had the moon already descended to earth?!
Smiling tenderly, Atri reached the bed.
Anasuya stirred at his touch; her eyes were dark pools of desire. Coral-ed
lips parted in invitation, she melted into his arms.
Months later, Atri stood apart from the crowd of women who buzzed
around his wife with their happy chatter, discussing her coming
confinement. Anasuya sat in their midst, her face almost translucent with
the glow of advanced pregnancy, softly thanking them for their good
wishes. Seelavathi braided a string of flowers into Anasuya's lustrous, floor-
length hair, while another sage's wife placed the vermillion tilak on her
forehead. Anasuya smiled to herself and absently stroked her stomach.
Atri was lost in his wife's beauty – it seemed to him that Anasuya's full,
radiant cheeks mirrored the moon cocooned in her womb.
"Swami!" Anasuya's call broke into his reverie. He blinked and looked
about him. Anasuya's companions were gone.
"Swami , your eyes are on me, but your thoughts are far away!"
Atri smiled. "I lost myself in your beauty, dearest. I see the full moon
shining in your face. I can hardly believe my good fortune! My father,
Brahma, is going to be my son! Who could be luckier than I am?"
Anasuya asked mischievously. "Doesn't one half of your luck rightly belong
to me, Swami !?"
Atri looked down at her in deep affection. ‘Anasuya, my dear, your good
fortune is beyond mere luck. It is a divine gift – the rich reward of long
years of prayer and sacrifice."
He placed his arm round her and gazed up at the moon outside their
window. "When will the moon descend to the earth?" he teased her.
Anasuya smiled and leaned her head on his strong shoulder. "You won't
have to wait much longer, my lord. He should be here in a matter of days."
In the year of Soumya, on the tenth day of the waxing moon, in the month
of Kaartik, Anasuya gave birth to a beautiful baby boy: the physical
manifestation of Brahma, brimming with the quality of rajoguna.
Atri held his infant son's naming ceremony at his ashram, in the presence of
the Trimurti and their consorts. The host of maanasaputras and devas,
along with sage Narada, showered their blessings on the baby.
Brahma cradled his own incarnation fondly in his arms and said, "This is
Chandra."
Sri Mahavishnu stepped forward: "Chandra will refresh the worlds with the
invigorating blessing of his innate coolness. He will be worshipped as one
of the Navagrahas.”
Nirvikalpananda stopped, as Chidananda claimed his attention with a
respectfully raised hand.
Eyes blazing in curiosity, the disciple said, "Master, we have seen the chaste
Seelavathi freed from her misery. The virtuous Anasuya has realized her
wish for progeny. Both these developments can be attributed to sage
Mandavya's curse. But you have forgotten to tell us the sage's own fate:
what happened to him?"
Nirvikalpananda replied, "My son, I have not elaborated on sage
Mandavya's fate because it does not have much relevance to the story of the
Navagrahas ."
"But, master, we are on tenterhooks as to what befell him!" protested
Vimalananda.
Nirvikalpananda gave his young acolytes an indulgent smile. "Very well.
The king soon received proof of Mandavya's innocence. Filled with
remorse, he ordered the sage's immediate release. However, as the guards
lifted Mandavya's torso from the spike, the metal tip, or ani, broke off and
remained lodged in his throat. Henceforth, the sage was known as
Animandavya.' Since you are all interested in the strange circumstances of
his life, I will add that this same sage was instrumental in Yamadharmaraja,
the god of death, taking the avatar of Vidura in Dwapara yuga.
"And going back to Atri and Anasuya, in due course, Lord Vishnu and Lord
Shiva were born to them as Dattatreya and Durvasa – their second and third
sons, respectively."
He paused and teased them gently: "And now, my sons, may I proceed with
the tale of the Navagrahas ?"
His disciples smiled rather sheepishly.
Sadananda said, "Master are we going to hear about Kuja graha next?"
"Yes, my sons." He paused a moment. "Kuja's birth began with a discussion
at Satyaloka."
The four disciples sat up straight in anticipation. They were all ears as
Nirvikalpananda resumed his discourse.
The Birth of Kuja
B rahma sat on his pristine white lotus, with Saraswati beside him. They
exchanged a knowing smile as the familiar chant, "Narayana!" reached their
ears. Then, Narada stood before them, bowing in reverence to his parents.
Saraswati said, "Narada, you have arrived just in time!" She turned to
Brahma: "Swami , why don't we ask Narada to be our referee?"
The curious sage asked, "What is this, mother?"
"Well, Narada, Chandra is none other than a part of Lord Brahma's essence,
right?"
Narada nodded warily in agreement.
Saraswati continued, "But, I say that Chandra outshines Lord Brahma in
good looks. Your father denies this. Now, we leave you to cast the deciding
vote!"
Narada hesitated.
Hiding his smile, Brahma murmured, "Comparing me with an infant!
Whatever next?"
Saraswati, looking at Brahma from the corner of her eyes, urged the sage:
"Come, Narada! Who is handsomer: my Lord Brahma or the young
Chandra?"
"Narayana!" the hapless Narada exclaimed. "I am caught in a dilemma!
However, I must, at all costs, avoid falsehood in the presence of my mother,
the goddess of speech. I must admit that Chandra is handsomer." Saying
this, Narada anxiously scanned Lord Brahma's faces – to his great relief, all
four were wreathed in smiles.
The Creator laughed aloud. "So, both of you have decided that I am blind to
Chandra's beauty? It is I who willed that he be the handsomest of my
creation!"
Saraswati's eyes sparkled in mischief, as she replied, "And all the trouble I
had to take to make you declare the truth!"
Brahma and Narada joined in her laughter.
She then turned to the sage. "So, Narada, how is Chandra doing? Being
suckled by Anasuya, I suppose?"
"Narayana!" Narada laughed. "Mother, you forget the passage of time.
Chandra is no longer an infant feeding at Anasuya's breast. He now roams
the forest, collecting dharba grass and twigs for the sacrificial fire. Atri has
commenced his instruction in the Vedas and other scriptures."
Saraswati exclaimed in surprise: "Chandra is a young man? How time
flies!" She paused. "In that case, I think it's time for the third Navagraha to
make its manifestation."
Brahma nodded in thoughtful agreement. "Yes – and this time, it should
happen through Parameswara."
"Parameswara, my Lord?" Saraswati wondered.
"My dear, Surya is Vishnu's incarnation, just as Chandra is mine. It is but
right that the next graha is a manifestation of the third of the Trimurti ."
Narada stepped in with a "Narayana!" He continued, "Is my father
commanding me to pay a visit to Mount Kailash, by any chance?"
Brahma smiled: "Yes, Narada. Lord Vishnu and I speak in one voice. Be our
messenger to Maha Shiva."
Narada bowed his head and set out joyfully on his mission.
A hushed silence lay over Mount Kailash, Lord Shiva's sacred abode.
Narada wandered about the deserted landscape, wondering: 'Has everyone,
including Lord Shiva, abandoned Kailash after Sati ended her life in the
flames of the yogic fire?'
Then, abruptly, he came to a halt: there, before him, was Lord Shiva.
Maheswara was seated in deep meditation, oblivious to his surroundings.
His long, iridescent, copper colored tresses formed a nimbus about his head.
His normally pale complexion blazed a deep red with the fierce intensity of
his tapas. The very air round him pulsated with energy. The usually verbose
Narada stood speechless before the Mahayogi, mesmerized by the awesome
power and beauty of his divine penance.
A miracle unfolded before the sage's wonderstruck gaze. Lord Shiva's brow
flushed a vivid crimson, as if anointed by a band of vermillion. A single
tear-drop of perspiration formed at the center of the broad forehead,
glistening like a precious pearl against the ruby-red skin. The bubble
became a rivulet and flowed down the Lord's shapely nose. There it paused
a moment, adorning Shiva like an exquisite nose ornament. Then, the
pendant drop fell to the earth.
Narada's eyes widened in amazement as the bubble transformed into a
beautiful baby boy with four arms. The infant's complexion mirrored the
fiery red of Shiva's brow. The baby's loud wailing shattered the silence of
the mountain. To Narada's surprise, Shiva remained immersed in his
meditation, oblivious to the cry. The sage looked on helplessly. Then, as
though in answer to the infant's call, an exquisite damsel materialized and
gathered him tenderly into her arms.
Narada recognized her as Bhudevi, the goddess of earth. She pressed the
baby warmly to her breast, hushing his tears.
Looking intently at Lord Shiva, she called out: "Parameswara!"
Lord Shiva slowly opened his half-closed eyes and looked serenely at
Bhudevi and the infant cradled in her hands.
Bhudevi held out the boy to him, saying, "Parameswara, this is your son,
who manifested from your perspiration. Take him."
Lord Shiva gazed with equanimity at the goddess and said, "Bhudevi, this
infant has sought the shelter of your munificent lap. Raise him as your own
child."
Bhudevi exclaimed: "Bhagavan!”
Shiva continued gravely: "Without my beloved Sati, I am but an orphan
myself." Bhudevi's heart melted in sympathy at these words.
Shiva continued in a firm voice, "He is now your son. Feed him the sacred
milk from your breast and cherish him. The boy is to be called Bhouma and
Kuja, after your names, 'Bhumi' and 'Ku.' He will also be known as
Angaaraka, for his fiery complexion."
Bhudevi nodded solemnly. "Bhagavan, I am honored that you have named
the boy after me. Your wish is my command."
Before Lord Shiva could reply, Lord Vishnu and Brahma, accompanied by
their consorts, appeared in Kailash. Bhudevi and Narada bowed in
obeisance before the Trimurti .
Lord Shiva addressed his unexpected visitors: "It is good to see you all!"
Lord Brahma replied, "The pleasure is ours, Maheswara."
Lord Vishnu continued, "We come here with full hearts to felicitate you on
your timely creation of the third of the Navagrahas."
Brahma turned to Bhudevi. "Goddess of the earth, as one of the
Navagrahas, your son, Kuja, is destined for extraordinary things. Treasure
him and raise him as your own."
Lord Vishnu in his turn said, "Bhudevi, this boy is a precious gift to you
from your affectionate brother, Lord Shiva. As his mother, your name will
live forever in the annals of cosmic history. Kuja will bestow the gift of
land on all who seek his blessing on earth."
Mahalakshmi took the gurgling baby into her arms. Kissing his rosy cheeks,
she exclaimed: "Kuja is as radiant as a lotus bud!"
Saraswati, in her turn, cradled the infant in her arms, saying, "I can see the
extraordinary intelligence blazing from his countenance."
The pleased Bhudevi bowed in gratitude to Saraswati: "Goddess of wisdom,
my Kuja is indeed fortunate to receive your blessing."
"You share his good fortune, Dharani. You have borne a son without
enduring the natural rigors of pregnancy." Mahalakshmi smiled in
agreement.
Narada stepped forward to say, "Above all, it is the human race which is
fortunate. Due to the compassionate intercession of the earth goddess, they
can now worship the first three of the Navagrahas , who are each a part of
the Trimurti – Surya as Mahavishnu's vision in his right eye, Chandra as
Brahma's incarnation and Kuja as Maheswara's essence."
"So be it!" said the gods and goddesses in happy unison, before making
their departure from Mount Kailash. Lord Shiva raised his hand in
benediction over Bhudevi and the gurgling Kuja, before they vanished.
Narada, now alone with Shiva, bowed in reverence and said, "Bhagavan, I
ask your permission to leave so that I can spread the momentous tidings of
Kuja's birth across the expanse of the cosmos."
Lord Shiva smiled in tranquil acquiescence and closed his eyes. Once more,
the Mahayogi was immersed in his transcendental meditation.
Nirvikalpananda stopped and looked at his spell-bound sishyas . "That was
the birth of Kuja. Who can tell me whose story comes next?"
Chidananda replied eagerly: "I can, master! The fourth graha , Budha, is
next."
"No, my boy." Nirvikalpananda laughed at Chidananda's crestfallen face.
"We are familiar with the Navagrahas in this order: Surya, Chandra, Kuja,
Budha, Brhaspati, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu. However, this particular
order is based on their preponderance in terms of their respective merits and
powers, as ordained by the Trimurti . It is not the actual order of their births.
Kuja's manifestation was followed by that of Brhaspati and Sukra. Budha
was born only after Brhaspati's marriage to Taara. Therefore, it is better to
hear about Brhaspati and Sukra before proceeding to Budha's story."
The master paused for reflection. "In fact, my sons, both Brhaspati and
Sukra were born prior to Chandra's manifestation. Since their births do not
impinge on Chandra's story in any way, I chose to narrate Chandra's story
before theirs."
"The correct order of the Navagrahas is clear to us now, master,"
Vimalananda said.
He was seconded by Sadananda: "Yes, master – your narration depicts the
genealogy of the grahas in exhaustive detail."
Nirvikalpananda addressed his disciples: "My boys, clarity is of utmost
importance in any treatise on mythology. There should be no room for
misinterpretation – otherwise, there is danger of descending into the
absurd."
With this caution, Nirvikalpananda resumed his discourse. "I hope you
remember the name, Angiras: he was one of the maanasaputras . He had a
number of wives and numerous progeny. But these are irrelevant to
Brhaspati's birth. We need to know only about his wife, Sraddha, also
known as Vasudha. Sraddha's eldest son was Utathya …"
The Birth of Guru
A s the golden light of dawn flooded his ashram, Sage Angiras patiently
quizzed Utathya on his Vedic knowledge. Utathya plodded along in his
stolid way, answering his father's questions hesitantly and after much
thought.
Angiras hid his disappointment and thought, 'A good student should have
his answer ready even before the question has been posed! Alas! My son is
slow to comprehend and slower yet to respond!'
He looked up in relief as Narada's chant, "Narayana!" reached his ears.
Angiras dismissed Utathya and warmly welcomed the wandering sage.
Narada looked after the departing boy and asked: "So, Angiras, the son now
excels the father in his knowledge of the scriptures – right?"
Angiras sighed in regret. "If only that were true, Narada. Utathya is
undoubtedly a diligent and intelligent student. But he is rather slow on the
uptake. I must admit that teaching him is a long- drawn out affair, often
testing my fortitude. He even talks and walks slowly! How I wish I had a
wise son who possessed an intellect with the speed of light!"
"Such a son will surely be yours one day, Angiras. Worship Agnideva, the
god of fire. He will give you the child you desire."
Angiras exclaimed, ‘Agnideva?!"
Narada nodded vigorously. "Yes, Angiras. The god of fire holds you in high
esteem. Earlier, when Agni renounced the world in a fit of anger, and left to
do penance in the forest, it was you who stepped in voluntarily and
performed his duties in his stead."
"Of course I remember, Narada. In fact, Agnideva asked me to continue to
fulfill his role indefinitely. It was I who turned him down, telling him that I
preferred to be considered his eldest son."
"Then, what are you waiting for, Angiras? Angideva would not hesitate to
bless a wise man with a wiser son – all you have to do is ask!"
At Narada's suggestion, Angiras, along with his wife, Sraddha, devoutly
performed the Agnikaarya – Agnideva's favored homam. As the flames of
the sacrificial fire leaped high, the radiant Agni appeared before them in a
dazzling shower of sparks. The enthralled Angiras folded his hands in
salutation.
The god of fire smiled at him. "Angiras, I have waited long to grant you a
boon. Tell me your desire." Agni's deep voice reverberated in the air, like
shimmering columns of heat.
"Father, bless me with a son of extraordinary wisdom and intelligence."
"I cannot refuse your prayer, my son. Your wife Sraddha will bear a child of
matchless intellect and exemplary oratorical skills. In time, his name will
become a byword for wisdom in all the worlds. Through him, you and
Sraddha will earn eternal fame."
Agnideva lifted his hand in blessing over the prostrate Angiras. The yagna
fire flared brightly and the god merged into its flames once more.
Agni's promise soon bore fruit and Sraddha became pregnant. Angiras
showered his wife with tender care as they awaited the birth of their much-
anticipated son. One auspicious morning, Sraddha delivered a boy. The
infant's face glowed like a full-blown blossom and the radiant light of
wisdom blazed from his eyes.
Angiras conducted his son's naming ceremony in the presence of his fellow
maanasaputras and their families, in accordance with the prescribed Vedic
rites.
At the end of the Agnikaarya, he pronounced his son's name: "This is
Brhaspati."
Sage Narada, who graced the ceremony as the Trimurti’s representative,
proclaimed: ‘Angiras, your son will not only be a colossus of learning, he
will also occupy a special place in the pantheon of the Navagrahas. This is
the decree of the Holy Trinity."
Angiras and Sraddha exchanged looks of joy and kissed their son in fond
pride.
Angiras said, "We are indeed blessed, Narada. The Trimurti have showered
us with their grace."
Narada exhorted him: ‘Angiras, it is your paramount duty to carefully
sculpt Brhaspati's intellect into realizing its full potential."
"Narada, rest assured that I will mould my son into a scholar past compare!
He will be my superior in knowledge and surpass me in wisdom."
"Well said! This should be the rightful aim of every father – so be it,
Angiras!"
Angiras eagerly commenced his son's education when he was yet a little
child. To his father's delight, Brhaspati was an undoubted prodigy. The boy
proved an adept scholar and his tiny mind absorbed the intricacies of the
various arts and sciences as readily as a sponge. His family was awestruck
by his brilliance. He soon excelled Angiras in his depth of knowledge and
sharpness of intellect. Angiras and Sraddha, having arranged the marriage
of their elder son, Utathya, now turned their attention to Brhaspati's
matrimony.
Narada, in the course of his usual peregrination, visited Indra in Swarga and
praised the glory of his reign over the devas. Although Indra was very
pleased with the sage's commendation, there was one disappointment which
continued to rankle in his mind.
He now confided, "Narada Maharshi, I strive to provide the gods with
everything necessary for their welfare. But, to my great regret, we lack a
guru’s guidance. You are acquainted with everyone in the cosmos. I beg you
– suggest a suitable person to be our preceptor."
"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed thoughtfully. "The preceptor of the gods
must be a person of towering intellect and infinite wisdom. Hmm." He
paused. Then, "Yes! Indra, there is one person who has the credentials to fill
that unique position."
"Who is it, Maharshi ?" Indra asked eagerly.
"Brhaspati, the son of Angiras and Sraddha. He has completed his
instruction under his father and is an exemplary scholar. Under his
guidance, the devas will undoubtedly go from strength to strength."
Indra immediately rose from this throne. "Let's not waste any time,
Maharshi. Come with me to Angiras – he is one of the maanasaputras,
right?"
Indra prostrated himself before Angiras and explained the objective of his
visit. Angiras' spirits soared with justified pride at this open
acknowledgement of his son's peerless scholarship.
"Indra, if Brhaspati's wisdom contributes to the gods' welfare, I am indeed
the most fortunate of fathers. What more can I ask for? However, let's see
what my son feels about this."
When Brhaspati answered his father's summons, Narada outlined their plans
for his initiation as the preceptor of the gods.
Angiras urged his son to accept this offer: "Son, this is a unique opportunity
to put your learning to optimum use."
Brhaspati reflected for a moment and then said humbly, "Father, your wish
is my command. However, I do have one condition to make. You have
given me the gift of knowledge. I wish to establish an independent ashram,
where I can disseminate that knowledge to other disciples in my turn."
Indra immediately said, "We accept your stipulation. In fact, the devas
themselves can be disciples at your ashram ."
Indra went on to confirm Brhaspati as the deva-guru with his words:
"Master, we will construct your ashram at a suitable location and present it
to you as our guru dakshina ."
Angiras said, "I am glad that has been settled satisfactorily." He paused.
"On a different note, Sraddha and I have recently been considering
Brhaspati's marriage."
Indra enthusiastically offered his help saying, "It will be my privilege to
take on the task of finding a suitable bride for our preceptor. I will seek
Lord Brahma's counsel in this regard."
Angiras expressed his approval: "My own father is to select my son's bride!
What a blessing!"
Pleased with the developments, Narada asked, "Mahendra, when do you
plan to hold Brhaspati's investiture at Sudharma, your court?"
"I leave it to my father, Maharshi Angiras, to decide the auspicious day and
time for the initiation." Indra bowed respectfully in deference to the
maanasaputra .
Accordingly, Brhaspati was installed as the deva-guru and commenced his
chosen vocation of imparting knowledge to others. Residing at a beautiful
hermitage, he visited Swarga as necessary to discharge his duties as the
preceptor of the gods.
In due course, Indra introduced him to Lord Brahma. "Lord, this is
Brhaspati, our preceptor. His parents desire his marriage at the earliest. We
seek your valuable advice in this matter."
Brahma looked intently at the deva-guru . "Hmm. Brhaspati is indeed a
handsome man! His wife should certainly be his equal in demeanour. Let's
see."
Brahma closed his eyes in reflection. Indra and Brhaspati waited eagerly.
Then, the Creator said, "The beautiful young maiden, Taara, is at present
performing penance to acquire a suitable husband. Brhaspati, you will soon
be given the opportunity to make her acquaintance. She is fated to be your
wife."
Brahma materialized on the banks of the pond where Taara was immersed
in tapas. Her pristine white attire floated like delicate tendrils round her
flushed, lotus-like face. Long, thick lashes emphasized her closed eyes. Her
arms, as slim as lotus stems, were clasped gracefully in prayer. She stood
like a lissome creeper, adorned with lotus buds.
With a sharp intake of breath, Brahma thought, 'What sublime beauty! My
eight eyes can never have enough of this exquisite picture.' "Taara …" he
called aloud.
The large, limpid eyes opened and gazed at him in wonder.
"Swami!" Taara exclaimed, folding her hands in respect. Even to Brahma,
whose ears were long attuned to the magic of Vani's music, Taara's voice
was a veritable symphony of divine lutes.
"Taara, I bear glad tidings. Your desire for a good husband will soon be
fulfilled. Brhaspati, the preceptor of the devas , and a man of peerless
intellect, is to be your husband."
"Your will be done, Lord," Taara bowed in obedience.
"Your one-fold marriage to Brhaspati will bring you two-fold happiness!"
With this rather enigmatic blessing, Brahma disappeared, his eyes still
dazzled by Taara's beauty.
Her face radiant with joy, Taara looked about with new eyes. The cool
waves of the pond lapped at her feet in enticing invitation. Untying her long
hair, Taara waded into its pellucid water – taking the ritual avabridha
snanam which concludes a yajna. As Taara immersed herself in the water
and came up gasping for air, the exquisite beauty of her face rivaled the
charm of the lotus blossoms clustered around her.
The days passed. Taara waited in vain for Brhaspati. Yearning for his
appearance, Taara wandered from one beautiful locale to another, constantly
seeking the husband promised by Brahma. Brhaspati, in his turn, continued
his duties at his ashram , all the while waiting impatiently for Brahma's
boon to fructify.
One morning, leaving his disciples to revise their lessons, Brhaspati walked
to the river to perform his ritual ablution. As he reached the shore, he
stopped short: there, before him, was a beautiful maiden, emerging from the
water. Her dripping clothes clung to the sensuous curves of her body, vainly
attempting to curtain her loveliness from his eyes.
Brhaspati stood frozen by this vision of ethereal beauty: who could this be?
Was she a river sprite? Or perhaps a matsyakaantha washed up from the
depths of the ocean? Could she be a mermaid who had lost her way in the
river? Under the spell of her golden body, Brhaspati walked towards her as
if in a trance. A wave of excitement washed over him – for the first time in
his life, he found himself staring with desire at a woman.
He thought, 'Oh, if only Brahma had ordained this maiden to be my wife,
instead of the unknown Taara!' He gazed speechlessly into the depths of her
fish-like eyes and struggled with the emotions crowding his mind. He wet
his dry lips and tried to summon up his voice.
But the girl preempted him. "Aarya … My name is Taara. Could you please
help me? I come in search of the great Brhaspati."
Brhaspati's heart fluttered like the wings of a dove against his ribs. He could
only stare at her in silence.
"Do you know him, by any chance? Where can I find him?" she continued.
Her voice thrilled his ear with its sweet music.
He finally found his tongue and responded: "Taara – Brhaspati stands
before you!"
"You?!" Taara exclaimed in joy.
Brhaspati held out his hand: "Come, Taara."
Brhaspati took his prospective bride to his parents for their approval.
Angiras and Sraddha accepted Taara with joy and blessed their union.
Brhaspati married Taara in the presence of the devas, sage Narada and the
maanasaputras, in a grand ceremony arranged by Indra. With everyone's
happy blessings ringing in their ears, the newlyweds took their leave of
Angiras and Sraddha and reached their ashram, where they commenced
their married life.
The Birth of SukRa
N irvikalpananda stopped and regarded his disciples. They remained in
attentive silence, eager for him to continue.
"My sons, you have just heard the story of Brhaspati, the Guru. Now we
will go on to the birth of Sukra, who was Brhaspati's contemporary." The
master paused.
"Sukra is the sixth of the Navagrahas, and the son of sage Bhrgu, one of the
salient Brahma maanasaputras . However, Sukra was not his given name –
he acquired that moniker because of certain important reasons."
Sadananda spoke up in excitement: "Master, is that so? We were always
under the impression that Sukra was his real name! Why did he change his
name, master? What was his original name?"
Nirvikalpananda laughed gently at his disciple. "Now, now, Sadananda, let's
not be in a hurry! We will come to each episode in its proper place."
He smiled at the four young men and continued. "Bhrgu married Puloma,
also called Poulomi, who belonged to the rakshasa clan. In due course,
Puloma conceived. One day, when Bhrgu was away from their hermitage, a
rakshasa, also bearing the name, Puloma, abducted her. This asura, who
was an ardent past admirer of Puloma's, assumed the form of a hog and
raced away with her. Being in an advanced stage of pregnancy, Puloma
delivered a baby boy who fell to the ground from her womb in this mad
rush. This was Chyavana …"
Chidananda piped up excitedly: "Chyavana! That's Sukanya's husband –
Chyavana Maharshi! Am I right, master?"
Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "Yes, but let's keep Chyavana aside for
the moment and focus on Puloma, shall we? Puloma was a woman of
formidable character. Her chastity as Bhrgu's wife further enhanced her
powers. In due course, Chyavana set out from home to undertake prolonged
tapas. Subsequently, three more sons were born to Bhrgu and Puloma:
Vajraseersha, Suchi and Ourva. Puloma, with her own prodigious strengths,
could not hide her disappointment at the mediocrity of her sons, who were
gentle and of average intelligence. She yearned for a son with a razor-sharp
intellect, unshakeable determination and incomparable strength. Above all,
she wanted a son who was single- mindedly dedicated to the cause of the
asuras , Puloma's own beloved bloodline … "
Sage Bhrgu sat under a tree, facing the east, concluding his morning rituals.
Puloma emerged from the ashram and stood beside him. The sound of
chatter and happy laughter reached their ears. They turned to watch their
sons setting out to forage for the sacrificial twigs and grass required for the
daily yagnas.
Bhrgu fondly remarked, "Your sons are on their way to the forest to collect
darbha and samidhas without waiting to be told. You must be proud of
them, Puloma."
"They are not my sons!" Puloma shot back. "They belong to you – in every
respect!"
Bhrgu was flabbergasted at her sudden outburst. "Not your sons?! Whatever
do you mean, Puloma?"
"Just what I say." Puloma looked unflinchingly into her husband's puzzled
eyes. "I am distressed by their predominantly saatwic personality traits.
They have inherited your gentle manner of thought, speech and action.
Again, like you, they possess the tranquil disposition best suited to ascetics.
So, I consider them to be your sons, not mine!"
Bhrgu frowned in bewilderment. "Are you disowning your sons, Puloma?"
Ignoring his accusatory tone, his wife continued firmly: "Tell me Swami ,
taking into consideration my own lineage, what do you think?"
Bhrgu remained speechless – Puloma's attitude was incomprehensible to
him. It was clear that he and his wife were speaking on completely different
wavelengths.
Puloma continued impatiently, "Swami , don't you understand? All our sons
are purely saatwic in nature. None of them has the qualities I would prize in
a son. They are a great disappointment to me."
Bhrgu, deeply disturbed by her words, beckoned her close. "Come, Puloma,
sit beside me." He paused. "Now, tell me, what are these qualities you
desire in our sons?"
"Swami, how naive you are! Our sons, without exception, take after you in
saatwic traits."
"That is as it should be, Puloma."
"Well, such soft-heartedness and diffidence does not appeal to me. I yearn
to have a son of the sharpest intellect, brimming with self-confidence and
pride. He should possess immense courage and fearlessness, making him a
power to be reckoned with by all his adversaries."
Bhrgu looked at his wife with new eyes, giving her words serious
consideration.
Puloma continued: "Do you understand now, Swami ? I want a son endowed
with the qualities I have listed."
Bhrgu spoke gravely. "Puloma, do you realize that you are asking for a son
who is preponderantly raajasic and taamasic in nature? Such a combination
of attributes is best avoided, my dear."
However, Puloma remained adamant. "Swami, I am indifferent to such
niceties – all I know is what I want in a son. After all, you have four sons
who conform to your expectations. Am I not, as a mother, entitled to one
child of my own choice?" She gazed intently into her husband's eyes and
touched his feet. "Swami, bless me with a son of my own preference."
Bhrgu remained for a moment in silent contemplation. Then, heaving a
deep sigh, he placed his palm in blessing on Puloma's bowed head. "Yes,
Puloma, every mother has the right to beget children of her own choice ."
Late that evening, Bhrgu, the day's duties done, stood stroking his favorite
deer in the ashram grounds. His gaze travelled contently round the garden
and lighted on Puloma. Bhrgu froze into stillness, mesmerized by her
exquisite loveliness. His wife moved swan-like among the profusion of
flowering plants, watering them with infinitely graceful movements. Her
face was suffused by the golden light of the setting sun. A gentle zephyr
played with her flowing hair and ruffled her pale saree, outlining the
shapely contours of her body, honed to supple perfection by hours of
penance and rigorous discipline. Bhrgu could not tear his eyes away from
this picture of youth and beauty. The neglected pet deer gently rubbed itself
against his legs. Startled, Bhrgu looked down – the doe's large, limpid eyes
but mirrored the beauty of his beloved wife's.
The garden slowly turned to silver under the light of the full moon. The
heady fragrance of blossoms hung heavily on the night air. Puloma sat on a
flat boulder, head tilted up at the radiant orb in the sky. Bhrgu walked
towards her and gazed at her upturned face.
Puloma smiled up at him. "Swami , it is time you retired for the night.
Come, let's go inside."
As she rose, Bhrgu reached out to take her hand in his. He lifted her chin
with a gentle caress and gazed passionately into her dark, questioning eyes.
He held her close for a breathless moment. Then, wordlessly, he guided her
into a thick arbor of vines, covered with fragrant clusters of flowers.
The months passed. Puloma was in an advanced stage of pregnancy. A
deeply contented Bhrgu watched his wife feeding the ashram cow with
specially prepared fodder: the cow was also ready to deliver a calf.
Bhrgu thought: 'Puloma will soon have a son of her choice.' He smiled to
himself. 'But the poor cow – she does not have any say in the attributes of
her calf!'
He moved into the ashram to make the necessary arrangements for
Puloma's confinement, including the homam to ensure an easy, painless
labor. Puloma delivered a boy at an auspicious date and time.
With his inimitable sense of timing, sage Narada arrived at the ashram and
congratulated the couple on the birth of their son. "Bhrgu, I come with glad
tidings. The Trimurti and their consorts will grace your baby's naming
ceremony."
The delighted Bhrgu exclaimed, "Lord Vishnu, ParamaShiva and Brahma –
along with the Devis Mahalakshmi, Pravati and Saraswati! Really, Narada?"
Narada smiled at his excitement. "There is cause for their presence. You
will hear it from them in person, Bhrgu. Make all the necessary
arrangements and invite all your near and dear ones."
With the Holy Trinity as witness, Bhrgu celebrated his baby's naming
ceremony and gave his newborn son the name Usana.
Brahma said, "Bhrgu, my son, Usana is a gift from the Supreme Lord. His
will was the guiding force behind Puloma's request to beget a son of her
choice."
Lord Vishnu declared, "Bhrgu, in due course, Usana will be elevated to the
pantheon of the Navagrahas and will be an object of worship to the three
worlds."
Shiva added, "Bhrgu, devote the greatest attention to your son's education.
Make him a master of the arts of meditation, penance and japa ."
Bhrgu folded his hands in reverence. "The Trimurti’s blessing is all my son
needs to excel in every sphere."
Lord Vishnu turned to Puloma with a smile. "Puloma, your son will fulfill
your expectations. You will not be disappointed in him."
When Usana reached the age at which he could commence his education,
Bhrgu was astounded by his son's keen intellect and instant grasp of the
intricacies of the Vedas. The boy was an avid pupil, ready with probing
questions and quick to express his considered opinions.
As Bhrgu instructed him in the arts and sciences, in her husband's absence,
Puloma embarked on her own personal agenda. She availed of every
opportunity to instill in her son an affinity for the asuras . Puloma gave
Usana an account of the long-running rivalry between the deva and
daanava factions, emphasizing the hardships endured by the asuras. She
subtly suggested that the partisan support of the Trimurti, particularly Lord
Vishnu, was responsible for her people's sufferings. Consequently, Usana
grew up with a sense of outrage at the injustice meted out to his mother's
clan, and viewed the asuras with great sympathy.
Usana completed his prescribed studies in record time. He continued to
serve his parents and hone his skills at penance. As she observed the
obvious differences between the dynamic Usana and his placid elder
brothers, Puloma's heart was filled with a fierce pride: here indeed was the
son she had long yearned for!
The rakshasa king, Vrshaparva, sat on his throne, listening avidly to his
spies' report on the doings of his arch rivals, the devas.
He was interrupted by a palace guard. "Hail, king of the rakshasas ! The
sage Narada waits outside. Shall I let him enter?"
Vrshaparva gave a snort of disgust. "Humph! Let him in! It's not as if we
have any choice in the matter: that garrulous messenger of the cosmos will
not leave without meeting me!"
The king turned to his espionage chief. "Soorpakarna, you can resume your
report after Narada leaves."
"Narayana! Narayana!" Narada entered the court.
Vrshaparva nodded perfunctorily in his direction with a listless, "Narada."
"Narayana!" responded the irrepressible sage, as he seated himself
comfortably near the king.
Vrshaparva frowned in annoyance. "Narada, your constant refrain is an
assault upon my ears! Don't you know that Narayana is the asuras’ sworn
enemy?"
Narada looked up in mock horror. "I beg your pardon, Vrshaparva! My
tongue is so accustomed to this beloved chant, that it sometimes forgets
itself!"
The asura king shook his head impatiently. "Very well, Narada, come
straight to the point: what is the purpose of your visit?" He added
emphatically, "Uninvited, of course!"
"Nothing in particular, Vrshaparva. I am just going about my usual task –
the collection and dissemination of information."
"So, you have come here to milk me for information, is it?"
"Now, now, Vrshaparva: why so cynical?! Perhaps I have come to give you
tidings of great interest."
"Hah!" The asura king gave a sarcastic bark. "You can't fool me with your
guile, Narada! Don't I know that you are a partisan of the devas , just like
the person whose name you are so fond of parroting?"
Narada, not in the least bit perturbed, smiled. "How you misjudge me,
Vrshaparva! Very well – here's a piece of information to prove my
bonafides: Indra has appointed Brhaspati, Angiras' son, as the preceptor of
the devas."
Vrshaparva frowned. "Brhaspati? Is he that qualified?"
"Yes, indeed. He possesses an extraordinary intellect. Soon his name will
become a synonym for wisdom."
The asura king looked suspiciously at the beaming sage. "Going by your
smug expression, Narada, I think it was you who manipulated this
arrangement."
"Narayana!" The sage laughed. "How quick on the uptake you asuras are!"
Vrshaparva said accusingly, "Well, if you are truly impartial, why did it not
occur to you to bring Brhaspati here?"
"Narayana!" Narada threw up his hands in consternation. "Who am I to take
sides? Think, Vrshaparva: you are Brahma's great grandson, through his
maanasaputra, Mareechi and his son, Kasyapa. I, on the other hand, am
your grandfather Mareechi's brother. Unfortunately, the suras and the
asuras are now adversaries, although you are brothers by blood. But, as far
as I'm concerned, I, Narada, continue look upon the devas and the demons
with strictly impartial eyes."
Vrshaparva gave him an amused glance. "Narada, you have an
extraordinarily gifted tongue!"
The sage continued in an aggrieved voice: "I came here to tell you that you
should emulate Indra and have a learned guru at your court …"
Vrshaparva interrupted sarcastically: "Which is why you gifted Brhaspati to
Indra, is it?"
"Narayana!" exclaimed Narada impatiently. "Forget Brhaspati: I have
another person in mind for you. He has a razor-sharp intellect and excels
Brhaspati in clarity of thought and firmness of action." Narada lowered his
voice. "And now we come to the crux of the matter, Vrshaparva – he is also
exceptionally sympathetic towards the asuras . He …"
The asura king, all ears now, interrupted: "Who is this person?"
"I am coming to it, Vrshaparva." Narada chided. "You know Bhrgu
Maharshi, pre-eminent among the Brahma maanasaputras? Well, he
married Puloma, who belongs to your lineage …"
Vrshaparva intervened impatiently, "All this is known to me – don't waste
my time! Go on!"
"Very well. Bhrgu and Puloma's fifth son has completed his period of
studies. He is a person of towering intelligence. In fact, he is more than
equal to Brhaspati in all aspects. But the clinching factor in his favour is his
obvious sympathy towards the asuras . Puloma has ensured that her favorite
son has grown up to be a partisan of the demons."
Vrshaparva eyes glowered in excitement as Narada continued, "I suggest
you engage Usana's services before he undertakes any other binding oath."
"Narada, why don't you intercede with Bhrgu on our behalf?"
"Narayana! That was indeed the purpose of my visit : now, do you concede
that I am impartial?"
Vrshaparva laughed aloud. "Narada, I will do even better: I will now
concede that you are partial towards the asuras!"
"Narayana!" Narada laughed. "I see that you asuras are definitely
impetuous in nature! Come, let's not waste any time, but make at once for
Bhrgu's hermitage."
Vrshaparva commanded: "Ugraa! Get the chariot ready at once!"
Soon they stood before Bhrgu with their proposal.
"Preceptor to the asuras ?" the Maharshi pondered aloud.
"Yes," Vrshaparva urged. "We keenly feel the absence of a mentor and
guide. Narada has given me glowing reports of Usana. I request you to bless
our lineage by consenting to this appointment."
Narada added: "Say 'yes,' Bhrgu rishi . It is indeed a pity that the young
asuras have no one to instruct them."
Puloma now spoke up. "Swami , please grant Vrshaparva's request."
At Bhrgu's surprise, Puloma explained, "Even when I asked you for the
boon of a son like Usana, I had inklings of what was to come."
Usana, who had remained a silent spectator, now spoke up in his turn:
"Father, let me fulfill my mother's wish."
Bhrgu shook his head and smiled. "It looks like I am outnumbered in this
matter! Very well, Usana. May you garner great glory as the preceptor of
the asuras.”
"Father, rest assured that the knowledge you have imparted to me will be
instrumental in earning that glory," Usana replied humbly.
The contented Vrshaparva respectfully touched Bhrgu and Puloma's feet
saying, "The asuras are eternally indebted to you both for the blessing of
your son."
Narada suggested, "Vrshaparva, tomorrow is an auspicious day. Why don't
you anoint Usana as your guru then?" Bhrgu seconded the sage.
Vrshaparva declared proudly, "Usana's investiture shall outshine Brhaspati's
in every way!"
True to his word, Vrshaparva inducted Usana into the preceptorship of the
asuras with much pomp and ceremony. Usana immediately took on his
appointed task of instructing the asura children and guiding the workings of
Vrshapavra's court. Very soon, his sterling intellectual prowess, and overt
hatred of the devas, earned him the asuras’ respect. In time, Vrshapavra
himself sought his counsel on matters of state and Usana firmly established
his pre-eminence among the asuras.
Nirvikalpananda smiled at his spellbound disciples and continued his
narrative.
"My sons, as I mentioned earlier, the story of Budha's birth is intertwined
with that of Chandra, Brhaspati and Usana. Now that you are familiar with
history of these three, you can easily comprehend Budha's origin."
The master paused to drink deeply of the water in the copper vessel on the
floor.
"As you recall, Chandra was born to Atri and Anasuya. The couple lavished
their love and care on their cherished son. Chandra pleased his father with
his sterling character and intelligence. Anasuya, on her part, could not resist
adoring her handsome son. In time, Anasuya brought up the question of
Chandra's marriage. Atri replied that Chandra first needed to spend some
time under the tutelage of an able guru …"
Nirvikalpananda proceeded with his discourse.
Coming to the end of the day's lesson, Atri intoned, "Om !"
"Om !" Chandra echoed his father's concluding chant devoutly, with closed
eyes. Father and son relaxed for a moment under the spreading branches of
a tree in the ashram .
As Chandra rose to leave, Atri gestured to him to remain seated. "Chandra,
I have something to say."
Chandra obediently waited to hear his father. "My son, the instruction you
have imbibed from me is but a little drop in the vast ocean of knowledge. It
is time you served a guru to further advance your education."
Hearing Atri's words, Anasuya, who happened to be passing by, said,
"Swami, what can Chandra learn from another guru that you yourself
cannot teach him? Who is more knowledgeable than you?"
Atri smiled fondly at his wife. "My dear, you know Angiras, my fellow
maanasaputra. His son, Brhaspati, is a powerhouse of knowledge and
wisdom. His prodigious intellect has earned him the preceptorship of the
devas.”
Anasuya said, "Yes, I remember Brhaspati: we attended his wedding."
"Brihaspati has established an independent hermitage to impart knowledge
to his disciples. I intend to send our Chandra to him."
With an affectionate look at her son, Anasuya said thoughtfully, "Swami,
you are right. Brhaspati will be Chandra's ideal guru.”
Atri gently corrected her: "Anasuya, Chandra will be Brhaspati's ideal
disciple!" He smiled fondly at his son. "Chandra, you will leave tomorrow."
The next morning, Chandra prepared to set out for Brhaspati's ashram .
Following the customary rite of departure, Anasuya served her son a sweet
dish at the start of his journey.
Atri advised his son: "Chandra, you have thrived under my tutelage with
your love, devotion and whole-hearted dedication. However, when you
undertake your study under a guru , it is discipline and obedience which
must take precedence. Above all, respect your teacher: remember, keep
your head bowed when you address him." "Yes, father."
Anasuya added her counsel: "Son, you must also respect your master's wife.
She stands in your mother's stead, and sees that you are fed. Make use of
every opportunity to lend a hand in the daily chores of the hermitage."
"Mother, I will follow your advice," Chandra said. He touched his parents'
feet in respect.
Atri blessed him with the words, "My son, may your praiseworthy behavior
fill us with pride."
Anasuya embraced her boy and kissed him tenderly on his forehead. Her
voice choked with emotion. "Chandra, my thoughts will always be with
you. Take care of yourself, my son."
Atri and Anasuya watched Chandra leave. Anasuya remained standing on
the threshold of the ashram until her son was lost to the view of her tear-
filled eyes.
OceanofPDF.com
The Birth of Budha
T he soothing cadence of Vedic hymns permeated the air of the ashram .
Brhaspati's disciples, seated in sedate rows beneath the trees, recited their
lessons under the watchful eye of their master. Multi hued parrots, hiding
among the thick foliage of the branches, sweetly mimicked the mantras.
The incessant chirruping of birds, punctuated by the occasional scream of
peacocks, formed a pleasing background score to this serene symphony.
A sudden movement distracted Brhaspati, who looked up from his attentive
focus on his pupils' recitation. He frowned, his thick brows almost meeting
in surprise – a young man was silently making his way towards the
hermitage on the grass-covered footpath. The guru marked the superbly
sculpted torso and the glowing complexion. Here was a man endowed with
incredible beauty: a beauty which would instantly cast its spell on all eyes,
male or female.
'Who can this be?' wondered Brhaspati. 'Not even Indra's Swarga can boast
of such breathtaking handsomeness!' The young stranger drew near. He
stood behind the rows of disciples and waited respectfully.
Brhaspati, curiosity aroused, asked, "And who might you be, young man?"
"I am here to see you, master," replied Chandra courteously.
Brhaspati raised a hand to silence his pupils. The parrots followed suit and
fell silent on their perches above. Brhaspati beckoned the newcomer
forward. The young man stood before the guru and bowed his head. The
disciples craned their necks to glimpse the unexpected stranger in their
midst.
"I am Chandra, the son of sage Atri and Anasuya."
"Oh! Aatreya …" Brhaspati acknowledged, as Chandra continued: "I am
here to pursue my higher education under you, as commanded by my
father."
"Is that so?" asked Brhaspati, again noting the extreme beauty of the new
arrival.
Chandra prostrated himself at the guru’s feet and said humbly, "Master,
please accept me as your disciple and bless me with the gift of knowledge."
"May you be happy," Brhaspati replied.
Chandra looked up in surprise and exclaimed, "Master, I am here to be your
student!"
Brhaspati's incipient frown turned into a smile. In effect, this young man
had indicated that the guru’s blessing was inappropriate to the situation.
"You are right, my boy – a disciple should not live in comfort." He lifted his
right hand in benediction: "May all knowledge be yours!"
"I am truly blessed, master," Chandra saluted his new guru, who instructed:
"Chandra, go complete your morning rites and recover from the fatigue of
your travel. Then …"
Chandra interrupted: "Master, I performed the morning rituals on my way
here." He paused to look around at the pleasant environs of the hermitage.
"And my fatigue has vanished in this refreshing ambience."
Brhaspati smiled. "Very well, Chandra … By the way, how is sage Atri?"
"He is fine, master."
"And Mother Anasuya?"
"She is fully occupied in catering to my father's needs."
Brhaspati smiled in approval. "Now, that is what I call an ideal couple! And
you are fortunate to be their son." He pointed to the back row. "Sit there,
Chandra. I will examine the depth of your knowledge this evening and then
determine what course to follow with you – including any necessary
corrections." He stopped as a young woman approached from the hermitage
bearing a vessel of water, which she offered to Chandra.
Brhaspati made the introductions: "This is Punjikasthala, the hermitage
maidservant. She tends to the disciples' dormitory and lends a helping hand
round the ashram ."
Having drunk deeply of the cool water offered by the maid, Chandra made
his way to the last row of disciples.
A pair of hungry eyes feasted unblinkingly on his broad, retreating
shoulders. These large eyes peered furtively through an open window of the
ashram’s inner chamber. They did not belong to Brhaspati; nor to any of his
disciples – no: these amorous eyes, limpid as lotus petals, belonged to
Brhaspati's wife – to Taara.
Late that evening, Brhaspati entered the bedroom. Taara sat statue-like on
the bed, draped in a saree which fluttered tantalizingly in the breeze wafting
in from the open window, redolent with the sweet fragrance of flowers.
The surprised Brhaspati exclaimed, "Taara! You are still awake!"
Taara jumped up at her husband's voice like a startled doe. "Swami, it's
you!" She hurried on: "I am unable to sleep …"
Brhaspati lay on the bed. Instinctively, his hand reached out for his wife.
Taara looked down at him. "Your new disciple ." she swallowed with
difficulty. Clearing her throat, she murmured indistinctly, "Chandra …"
"Are you talking about Chandra, dear?"
"Yes, that's his name, right?" She paused. "I think he is much older than the
other disciples – isn't he, Swami ?"
"Not only is he senior in age, he is also miles ahead of the others in
obedience, knowledge and wisdom." Brhaspati smiled approvingly.
"Is that so?"
"Taara, who do you think Chandra is? He is none other than the beloved son
of Brahma maanasaputra , Atri, and his chaste wife, Anasuya."
"They are widely acknowledged to be an exemplary couple, Swami ."
"Yes, dear." Brhaspati continued with a note of pride. "Atri has particularly
chosen me to be his son's guru !"
"That is indeed fortunate, Swami. It is good to have a young man among all
these children – they cannot even carry water from the river for our use
without spilling half of it on the way!" Taara waited for a moment and then
asked, "Swami, could I ask Chandra to fetch water from the river daily?"
Brhaspati smiled indulgently. "Why, Taara, you don't need my permission
for that! You know that, for every disciple, serving the gurus wife is
tantamount to serving the master himself."
A deep sigh escaped Taara's lips.
Brhaspati gently pulled her towards him, saying, "Come, Taara, it's time
you retired for the night. You are always up before dawn."
Taara deftly extricated her hand from her husband's clasp and came to her
feet in one fluid movement. "You too need your rest, Swami. I am wide
awake. I think I'll go for a stroll in the garden. I'll be back soon – don't wait
up for me."
Without waiting for Brhaspati's response, Taara quickly walked out of the
room.
The cool night breeze rippled through Taara's thick curls. A sudden gust
blew her upper garment from her shoulders. As the wind played merrily
with the truant cloth, Taara remained oblivious to her exposed body. Her
saree fluttered in the breeze and then clung to her like a second skin,
sculpting the contours of her sensuous figure. A torrent of dark longing rose
from the depths of her being, flooding her with desire: well did she know
the reason for her sleeplessness that night! She thought, 'Chandra pulls at
me like an irresistible tide. I yearn for his touch.'
Brahma's words echoed in her mind: 'Brhaspati, the preceptor of the devas ,
and a man of peerless intellect, is to be your husband.'
Taara sighed. Could Brahma have been wrong? Perhaps it was Chandra
who was destined to be her husband. Had she made a mistake?
Taara froze as someone tugged at her upper garment from behind! She
gasped and turned slowly, expecting to see Chandra – but, no – with a sharp
pang of disappointment, she saw that the cloth was merely tangled in the
branch of a flowering plant. She freed the garment and threw it desultorily
over her shoulders. Again, Taara drew up short: there before her stood the
disciples' cottages. In one of them Chandra slept peacefully, blissfully
oblivious to the tumultuous passion which raged in her own sleepless heart!
The intoxicating fragrance of the flowers overwhelmed her senses. With a
little cry of pain, Taara ran back into the ashram. As she walked slowly
towards her room, Brhaspati's snores reached her ears.
It was the time of the noon meal. Brhaspati's disciples sat in two parallel
rows, facing each other, while their master took his place at their head,
commanding a view of both lines. Taara approached Brhaspati and served
his food on the banana leaf before him. Her husband suddenly frowned and
called out to one of his pupils: "Sanaathana! Where is Chandra?"
The boy replied, "Master, he has not come yet."
Taara intervened: "Who, Chandra? Swami , I sent him to fetch water from
the river. Unfortunately, I accidentally overturned the pot and spilled all the
water."
"But it is meal time, Taara …" Brhaspati reproached his wife gently.
"Swami , I asked him to have his food first – it was he who insisted on
fetching the water immediately." She paused. "Carry on with your meal,
Swami . Chandra can eat with me."
Chandra stood hesitantly on the threshold of the dining hall. On the floor
before him were two banana leaves, one of which held a meal.
"Come, Chandra." He started at the voice. "Seat yourself at your leaf. I have
served your food."
Chandra turned round to see Taara, his master's wife, holding a bowl of
steaming rice in one hand and a spoon in the other. Chandra remained
standing by the door.
Taara laughed merrily. "So, what is it that fascinates you so? Me, or the
banana leaf?"
Chandra came to and bowed deferentially. ‘After you, madam."
"No, Chandra, I have told your guru that we will eat together. Come join
me!" she commanded him.
Chandra slowly walked towards the leaves. Taara gave an enigmatic smile.
"Why the hesitation, Chandra? Are you not hungry? As for me, I am
ravenous." She gestured invitingly towards his leaf. "Sit and eat."
Without removing her intent gaze from his face, Taara seated herself before
him, saying, "Just give me a minute – I will serve myself."
As she bent over her plate, her upper garment dropped over the leaf.
Chandra looked up at her sudden gasp and froze. He could not tear his eyes
away from the startling beauty of her exposed breasts.
Taara gave a breathless laugh. "Oh! This garment refuses to stay put in its
place!" She wryly held out her hands which were busy with the meal.
"Chandra, could you please cover me?"
Chandra remained stock still, his eyes glued to her revealed body.
"Chandra!" Taara's insistent voice broke the spell.
Chandra jumped up. Picking up the cloth with a trembling hand, he gently
draped it over her shoulders. Taara straightened up – the garment was now a
curtain of snow over twin peaks. Taara nonchalantly commenced her meal.
Chandra, on the other hand, had lost his appetite. The sharp pangs of hunger
which gnawed at the pit of his stomach, and blazed from his eyes, had
nothing to do with food.
Taara asked casually, "So, how is the food? Tasty?"
Coming to with a start, Chandra started on his own meal. A teasing smile
played about Taara's lips. Chandra ate mechanically, his eyes straying
constantly from his leaf to her face.
"Your guru says that your mother is a great woman." Taara remarked.
"Yes …" Chandra faltered.
Taara continued, "I also heard that she is very good looking." She stopped
eating. "Is she really that beautiful?"
"Yes," Chandra's voice picked up assurance as Taara's questions gradually
put him at ease. "My mother is indeed very beautiful."
Taara asked, "More beautiful than I am?"
Chandra looked into her mischievous eyes. Her teeth sparkled like jasmine
buds through the parted, ruby-red lips.
Taara continued impishly: "Tell me, Chandra: who is more beautiful – your
mother or I?"
Chandra remained speechless.
"Come now, Chandra: answer my question." She urged him on.
Chandra stammered, "Both … both of you are beautiful ."
Taara burst into laughter. "Poor Chandra!" She gestured towards his leaf.
"Hmm … eat."
Closing his leaf abruptly, Chandra rose. "I have had my fill."
As Taara bent to pick up the leaves, her wayward upper garment again
dropped from its place. Taara turned towards Chandra. "Ooops! Here we go
again! This cloth seems to have a mind of its own today! Chandra …" She
shrugged helplessly at him.
Standing close behind her, Chandra picked up the recalcitrant garment and
covered her with it.
Taara's eyes twinkled. "My sarees are always like this – they insist on
dropping down at the least provocation!"
Taara moved away, her swaying gait reminding Chandra of a swan gliding
by on the surface of a crystalline lake. He stood mesmerized by her beauty.
Was it possible that she could be even lovelier from the back? He thought of
his mother – yes, Taara and Anasuya were both beautiful – but, each in her
own way.
As darkness shrouded the ashram grounds, Chandra wandered sleeplessly
beneath the trees. A muffled cry made him turn back and search anxiously
among the foliage. Was she hiding in the concealing gloom? Was she
abroad this night, wide awake like him? Was she also possessed by the
tumultuous thoughts which lashed his heart with exquisite pain? Again and
again, Chandra's mind replayed the tableau of Taara's upper garment
dropping to reveal her breathtaking loveliness. The music of her lute-like
voice haunted his ears.
Chandra wandered soundlessly about the garden, seeking Taara. Again, he
heard a rustle in the bushes. He turned quickly – it was but the fluttering of
wings. The bird flew away. Chandra sighed in remorse. Taara was his
master's wife. Perhaps it was but commonplace for her upper garment to
drop … maybe it was customary for whoever was near, master or disciple,
to adjust the cloth. Was it his own inexperience with women which aroused
such tumult in his heart? Chandra shook his head. Was he reading more into
her enigmatic eyes than was warranted by the afternoon's events? He
shrugged helplessly and walked towards his dormitory with a heavy heart.
As he moved away, a rustle was heard – a bush parted to reveal
Punjikasthala. The maid smiled to herself and walked towards her own
cottage. Punjikasthala was an apsara. To her resentment, Indra had ordered
her to serve Brhaspati, effectively barring her from Swarga . The monotony
of ashram life weighed heavily on the apsara – it was one boring, never-
ending round of cleaning, gathering flowers for the daily worship and
obediently carrying out the duties allotted to her by the master's wife. Here,
there were no handsome young devas to compliment her on her beauty – no
dance or song to enliven the long evenings. If only she possessed Urvasi or
Menaka's extraordinary talent: Indra would never have cast her into this dull
existence. Punjikasthala heaved a sigh: it was her unfortunate lot to live in
the ashram , far from the excitement of Swarga.
Brihaspati's disciples devoutly recited the Vedas with closed eyes. Their
master examined them meticulously. His gaze came to rest on Chandra. The
young man sat detached from the classes' recitation, staring towards the
hermitage, where Taara stood behind an open window, a lingering smile on
her lips.
"Chandra!" Brhaspati's grave tone startled Chandra into attention. The guru
continued seriously, "You are not concentrating."
Chandra flushed in shame. "Forgive me, master" he stammered.
Brhaspati admonished him: "Concentration is absolutely essential in order
to master the Vedas – stay focused on your instruction."
Brhaspati completed his morning worship and prepared to set out for
Swarga. After breakfasting on the offertory fruits, he turned to his wife.
"Taara, my presence is needed at Indra's council today."
"When will you be back, Swami ?"
"By tonight. I will leave Chandra in charge of the disciples."
"Yes," agreed Taara. "They require strict supervision if they are not to
become boisterous in your absence."
Brhaspati looked intently at her face and said tenderly, "Let Punjikasthala
take care of the chores, my dear. You look tired." His eyes mirrored his
concern.
Taara nodded meekly in agreement.
Taara stood at the open window, watching Brhaspati's disciples seated in
their orderly rows, reciting their mantras. Chandra had taken up his position
before them, representing their master. A multitude of emotions buzzed
through Taara's head like a hive of honeybees. Presently, she emerged from
her reverie and turned resolutely from the window. A teasing smile played
upon her lips.
She walked to the pots which stood ranged against a wall, filled to the brim
with water. She carried a pot outside and poured its contents on the ground.
Leaving the empty vessel there, she proceeded to repeat the procedure with
the remaining pots. Once done, she looked at the row of empty vessels with
a complacent smile.
"Punjika!" shouted Taara. "Punjikasthala! Where are you, girl? Come here."
The maidservant came running. "Mother, what is it?"
"The water was covered with dust – I have emptied the pots. Go and fetch
fresh water from the river. The children need clean water to drink. Fill all
the vessels."
"Yes, mother," Punjikasthala obediently picked up the pots and departed for
the river.
Taara walked to the front of the class of disciples, studiedly ignoring
Chandra. "The master has gone to Indra's court. I know that he has assigned
lessons for the day, but the firewood is completely exhausted. Instead of
studying, I want you all to go to the woods to collect kindling for the
ashram. Sanaathana, you will be the leader of the foraging team." She
turned to the other pupils. "I expect you all to obey Sanaathana …"
"But, mother," Sanaathana protested, "Master has appointed Chandra as our
leader in his absence."
"I know that, Sanaathana." Taara's voice was tinged with impatience.
"Chandra is needed here to perform a few tasks which are beyond you and
me. So, go to the forest!"
The disciples needed no further urging – they willingly abandoned their
lessons and set out for the woods in high spirits.
Chandra looked at Taara with doubtful eyes. "Master did order me to …"
Taara cut him off with a curt – "Chandra, I am aware of your guru’s
instructions." She continued on a softer note. "But, I hope you are aware
that serving the master's wife is as important as obeying the master!"
Chandra marveled at her profile, as exquisite as every other part of her
body. 'I have never addressed her as 'mother',' he thought. 'I wonder why.'
Taara turned to him and smiled, her pearl-like teeth gleaming between the
coral of her lips. "Chandra, why is it that you alone among the disciples do
not address me as 'mother'?"
Chandra's heart raced at the uncanny question. Could she read his thoughts?
"Come on, tell me why."
Chandra remained silent. He passed his tongue nervously over his dry lips.
"Come on, tell me why." Chandra jumped as her words echoed loudly from
behind him. He turned quickly – there was no one there!
"Come on, tell me why." Again, her words reverberated in the silence. What
sorcery was this? Then, the rustling of leaves pulled his startled gaze
upwards: a parrot sat on the bough, fluttering its wings.
Taara burst into trills of merry laughter. "Until you answer, the parrot will
repeat my words!" She drew near and placed her feather-light fingers over
his parted lips for a fleeting second, saying, "But, not here – you will give
me your answer in the garden."
"Come, Chandra," she clasped his hand and urged him on.
"Come, Chandra," the parrot repeated from the tree.
"Come, Chandra." Taara enticed him forward with her impish smile.
"Come, Chandra." The parrot reinforced her words from above.
Taara's hand, slim as a lotus stem, became a taut noose of desire – and he
was its willing captive. Chandra gave a reckless laugh and staggered after
the vision of loveliness moving ahead of him.
Chandra tossed and turned restlessly on his mat. It was well past midnight,
but sleep continued to elude him. Scenes from his afternoon tryst in the
garden ran through his mind in a kaleidoscopic loop.
"Come on!" Taara gripped his hand and broke into a carefree run. She
stopped, panting, in the thick undergrowth below the spreading branches of
a tree. She smiled up at him. Chandra could not tear his fascinated eyes
from the rise and fall of her breasts. Rivulets of perspiration ran down his
face.
"You are sweating, Chandra. It must be all this running …" remarked Taara.
He started as she reached up to dab at his face with the edge of her upper
garment. He was intoxicated by the heady fragrance of pollen wafting from
the cloth, blending seamlessly with the petal-soft touch of her hand.
"You are still sweating! Are you tired?" Taara looked at the beads of
perspiration forming on his brow.
Chandra did not reply. Well did he know that fatigue was far removed from
his mind and body!
"We are in the garden! Shall we pick flowers?" Taara asked vivaciously.
"If you want …" Chandra managed to murmur the words.
"Very well – you take that side and I'll cover this one. Let's see who gathers
more flowers." Taara laughed playfully as she added a condition. "And the
collected flowers should be of different colours."
Chandra gathered flowers absently, his thoughts a riot of emotion. The
touch of every flower was a caress from Taara's soft hand.
In a while, her sweet words carried to him on the breeze: "Chandra, where
are you? Come here."
He walked slowly towards the melodious sound of her voice.
"Here I am." He could not see her. Was this to be a game of hide and seek?
"Chandra, here – in this bower!"
His blood sang in excited response to her lilting laugh. He walked slowly to
the arbour, the fragrance-laden air pulling at him like a powerful
aphrodisiac. He stooped to enter the thick canopy of climbing plants. The
melodious tinkling of Taara's bangles greeted him in the subdued light of
the leafy shelter. Suddenly, he was deluged by a shower of flowers.
As he gasped in surprise, her musical voice rang out in mocking laughter. "I
gathered the flowers for you – not for god!" She paused. "Now, tell me – for
whom are your flowers?"
He flinched, as her question hit him like a soft slap on the face.
"Come on, Chandra, tell me," her insistent voice refused to let him go.
Unsure as to how to address her, Chandra held out his flowers in mute
offering.
"For me! Then, why don't you shower them on me?" Taara laughed. "But,
wait … no … not like this … not while I am standing … " She lay back on
the soft carpet of blossoms which covered the ground. Beauty personified,
she reclined on her bed of flowers – one slender hand pillowed her head;
the other encircled her waist; one leg was bent upright at the knee.
Chandra stared at her as if in a trance.
"Now, Chandra: bathe me in flowers!" She smiled sensuously. "Slowly,
slowly! Don't throw them – I want to be drenched in a gentle shower of
blossoms."
Gathering his courage, Chandra rained flowers lightly on Taara. His
trembling hand gradually steadied. He was a devotee at the altar of her
beauty, worshipping her exquisite body with his blossoms.
"Chandra," her voice reached him softly from the depths of the bower. "Do
you know whom you look like now?" She paused. "You are Vasantha,
Manmatha's deputy – he who aids the god of love in adorning the virgin
goddess of nature."
Chandra emptied his upper garment over her and gazed adoringly at Taara's
flower-smothered body. She glowed like a lissome creeper bearing a
profusion of multi hued blossoms along its curvaceous length. Her radiant
face turned up towards him like a sunflower. Her pristine teeth sparkled like
jasmine buds.
"You have not yet answered my two questions," she reminded him archly.
He looked down questioningly at her.
"It looks like I will first have to tutor you in the art of conversation!" Taara
smiled indulgently and reached up to take his hand. "Come here, Chandra."
She pulled him down gently to sit close beside her. "Now, tell me: what is
my name?"
"Taara …"
"Very well. Now, tell me why you do not address me as 'mother,' as proper
for a disciple?" She looked directly at him. "Tell me, Chandra. I will have
an answer from you now."
"I dislike calling you so," he mumbled softly.
"Oh! Is that so?" She laughed. "Then, call me Taara!"
His eyes widened in surprise at her daring. Her own eyes wordlessly
reinforced the command of her tender, leaf-like lips, tremulous in the cool
breeze which reached into the bower.
As if of their own accord, his lips murmured, "Taara …"
"Yes! Chandra, call me Taara!"
Had she not heard him? He repeated in a firmer voice, "Taara …"
She laughed in undiluted pleasure. "There is something in the way you say
my name … I don't know what it is … it makes my heart sing!" She paused.
"I heard you the first time … but I want to hear it again and again!" Her
infectious smile was now mirrored in his own face.
"Do you know that you are even handsomer when you smile?" she asked.
"Now, answer my second question: who is more beautiful – your mother or
I?"
He had forgotten the question she had asked at their meal together: how
long ago it seemed! He gazed into the bottomless pools of her eyes. Her
garment of flowers rose and fell with each sweet breath, as if ruffled by a
gentle zephyr. Her own glowing body highlighted the luster of the
blossoms.
"Tell me, Chandra. Who is more beautiful – your mother or I?" She
repeated her question with a mocking smile on her lips.
An image of his lovely mother flashed before his mind's eye and realization
dawned at the same time: his mother's beauty was healing balm – Taara's
was inciting flame; his mother's loveliness wrapped him in calm repose –
Taara's banished sleep from his eyes.
She pressed his hand insistently. "If you don't answer, I will have to call my
parrot." She laughed teasingly. "So, tell me now: who is more beautiful,
your mother or I?"
"You …" he murmured. "You are more beautiful." His eyes roved hungrily
over her body, feasting on its lithe beauty.
"And do you know who is handsomer: you or my husband?" she asked.
He gasped at her presumption: "Taara!"
"Come on, ask me!" she urged. Her fingers stroked his hands, working their
magic on his senses.
"Taara …" was all that he could say.
She took his palm and placed it against her petal-soft cheek. "I will tell you
even if you refuse to ask: you are handsomer than my husband." Her voice
grew husky with desire. "Chandra, come close to me."
"Taara …" again, it was the only word he could muster.
Her roving hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Closer … closer! I want you
close to my heart!"
Her voice rang with passion.
A last cry of sanity escaped his lips: "Master!?" only to be silenced by her
own searching lips.
"I will not allow even a breath of air to intrude between us – leave alone
your master!"
Her arms were unassailable creepers entwining his neck. He laid his cheek
against hers. Like the river making its immutable way into the sea, Chandra
melted into her exquisite loveliness.
Chandra turned on his mat and smiled in recollected pleasure. He continued
his musing. He had fallen under the spell of Taara's eyes right from the
moment of his arrival at the hermitage. One look at her face through the
window and he was lost! What was the secret of his instinctive cleaving to
her? Could it be the strength of intimate bonds in their previous
incarnations?
"Meet me at the river before sunrise. We will frolic in the cool water while
the rest of the world still slumbers."
Taara's final words rang sweetly in his ears with their promise of pleasures
to come.
He smiled once more and finally sank into sleep.
Chandra half-reclined on the grassy knoll, watching Taara sport in the river.
She had the soul of a mermaid – her hands were golden creepers parting the
water in clean strokes; now, she floated on her back in delicious lassitude;
now, she flashed under the waves like a shoal of silver fish. Chandra drank
in her loveliness. Treading water, she looked up at him. Her face was a lotus
with its floating tendrils of moss-like hair.
She called out to him: "Come on, Chandra!"
He shook his head in refusal, preferring his grandstand view of her
exquisite body. Taara quickly swam towards the shore and came to her feet
in the shallows. The water lapped about her slender waist. Chandra felt the
heat rise in him. She raised her arms to knot her long hair and then stretched
her hand out to him. Chandra rose to help her out of the water. In a
twinkling, he was thrashing in the water beside the triumphantly laughing
Taara. As he came up for breath, her golden hands reached out for him,
making him breathless once more.
Brhaspati was in the midst of a demanding lecture, as Chandra
unobtrusively made his way towards the last row of attentive disciples. As
he silently bent to sit,
"Chandra!" Brhaspati's voice cracked through the air like a whiplash.
Chandra froze.
"Where have you been?" The innocuous words were pregnant with
dangerous undercurrents.
"To the river … master … for a bath …" He could not for the life of him
conceal the guilty flush which suffused his face.
"Why did you not join your fellow-disciples in their morning ablutions?"
The stern voice continued inexorably, "Why did you go to the river
separately?"
Chandra thought for a moment. What if someone had noticed that he and
Taara were absent from the hermitage at the same time? It would serve no
purpose to be caught in a lie.
"Master, I accompanied the master's wife to the river – at her command."
He bent his head.
Brhaspati admonished him gravely: "Chandra, your primary task here is to
study. Your second duty is towards your master. There is absolutely no
excuse for a disciple to serve the master's wife during study hours." He
paused and continued seriously. "Focus on your study and prove yourself
worthy of the name Aatreya – son of sage Atri."
"Yes, master," Chandra murmured.
"And one more thing. It has come to my attention that you are devoting a
major part of your time towards carrying out your gurupatni’s orders. Let
me make it clear to you that the ashram’s daily routine does not require
your helping hand. I will inform my wife accordingly. From this moment, I
expect you to dedicate yourself single-mindedly to your duties as a
student."
"Yes, master."
Brhaspati signaled with his hand for Chandra to be seated and resumed his
lesson. Chandra looked stealthily towards the ashram . His eyes caught the
flutter of Taara's saree as she silently moved away from the open window.
It was past midnight. Chandra wandered distractedly about the garden,
coming back again and again to the hidden bower. Why was Taara not here?
Would she come? Surely her signal meant that she would meet him here?
Had Brhaspati delayed her? A spasm of rage rose in his breast against his
master.
Coming to his senses with a start, Chandra realized the need to avoid the
watchful eyes of the maidservant or an encounter with a sleepless disciple.
He hurried into the concealment of the arbour. Suddenly, an invigorating
fragrance wafted in on the breeze. In its wake came the mellifluous tinkling
of anklets. Chandra's heart raced in excitement. Taara!
"Chandra …" Her voice was low and seeking.
He hurried out of the bower. Taara rushed towards him in an agony of
urgent longing. A sudden gust of wind blew her upper garment over
Chandra's face: he was a willing fish caught in the net of desire. Taara fell
into his arms. He clasped her tightly to his breast.
He pressed his ear against her lips which whispered, "Chandra!"
With one mind, they entered the bower and sat locked in a tight embrace.
"Taara," said Chandra with a heavy heart, "The last two days have been
endless ."
"For me too, my dearest. But, you know we have to be cautious. That's why
I did not attempt to meet you."
"Taara … Taara … Taara … I never tire of saying your beloved name."
Her hands were creepers of love entwined round his neck. She gently pulled
his head down to rest on her lap.
"I want to shout your name out loud to the world – it is hard to be silent," he
said.
She smiled down tenderly at him. "We are fated to love each other in secret,
dearest." Her fingers stroked his hair.
Chandra sat up in a sudden burst of anger. "I refuse to accept that," he shot
back at her. "I will not let the world come between us!"
"Chandra!" She hushed him, placing her fingertips against his lips.
He persisted: "We must be with each other through every moment of our
lives. Just the two of us, living in ecstatic isolation in a world of our own."
Taara caressed his cheeks. "I too want to live with you forever, love."
"Then, come with me!" There was an urgent anxiety in his words.
"Where can we go, dearest?"
"To a place where none can intrude on our love."
"Is there such a place, Chandra?" She tenderly held his face between her
two hands and sighed.
"Yes, there is – my personal abode."
"Your abode?" she asked in surprise. "You mean your parental home? The
hermitage?"
"No! Viswakarma has built a palace for me: it awaits my coming once I am
done with my education and am married."
"Really?"
Chandra smiled. "I was done with my education the very first day I
glimpsed your beautiful eyes through the hermitage window!"
Taara caressed his arms.
Chandra continued: ‘As for my marriage, that has also taken place – with
you! It was solemnized when I held your hand." He bent to place a gentle
kiss on her palms. "It has the sanction of our scriptures as paanigraham
holding of the bride's hand." He continued resolutely. "Soon, I will take you
away secretly. Again, this is in line with the scriptures, as ordained for the
asura clan: rakshas vivah.”
"Chandra … will all this really come to pass?" she asked wistfully.
He insisted firmly, "It will. You were born to be mine. Your marriage to
Brhaspati was but a prelude to your life as my wife."
Taara pressed close to him. Her lips whispered into his ears: "Chandra, at
first I tormented myself with the thought that you would run away from my
grasp like a frightened child. But now, you are a man – and you are mine."
"And do you know when I became a man?" he whispered in his turn,
caressing her ear with his lips. "I became a man when I first embraced the
beautiful Taara."
She tore herself reluctantly from his arms and said, "Tomorrow morning,
your master leaves for Indra's court."
Chandra gave a subdued laugh and clapped his hands soundlessly. "Good!
The disciples will go to the woods to collect kindling and Punjikasthala will
go to the river to fill the empty pots!"
‘And we …?" asked Taara.
"We will be together, my love. We will be together for all eternity."
Brhaspati sat on his customary dais under the tree, awaiting his disciples'
arrival for their morning tuition.
"Om! Om! Om !"
The guru looked up in smiling approval as the primeval chant echoed from
the boughs above his head: it was the ashram parrot, fluttering its wings
among the foliage! It was a matter of pride to Brhaspati that his favorite
parrot faithfully recited the chants which he taught his pupils. After all, it
was generally acknowledged that, in a truly pious hermitage, parrots
chanted Vedic hymns, while lions and deer lived in happy harmony.
The parrot's chant was a clarion call to the disciples, who were soon
assembled before their master in orderly rows. Brhaspati took in the
familiar faces – everyone was present … no … where was Chandra? Before
he could question his students, Punjikasthala hurried to him.
"Master … " the maidservant hesitated. Brhaspati urged her on with an
impatient gesture of his hand.
"Your respected wife is not in the hermitage … " she stood with downcast
eyes.
"What! Taara is not at home?" Brhaspati blurted in surprise. "How can that
be? She was here yesterday when I left for Indra's court!"
"She is not to be found, master," murmured Punjikasthala.
A murmur of excitement ran through the class.
"What is the meaning of this, Punjika?" Brhaspati frowned.
"I do not know, master. She vanished after your eminence left for
Swargaloka. I assumed she had accompanied you …"
A senior student stood up politely and seconded the girl: "Yes, gurudev, we
also assumed that Mother Taaradevi and Chandra were with you …"
Brhaspati's eyes narrowed. "I went alone." A note of criticism crept into his
voice. "You should have kept an eye on Chandra …"
"We last saw him near the river in the early hours of the morning, master,"
the disciple replied. "He did not join us in our ablutions."
Abandoning his class, Brhaspati paced thoughtfully aside for a few minutes.
Then, he turned to the whispering disciples. "Perhaps they have gone to the
woods to forage for sacrificial twigs and holy grass or kindling … " He
cleared his throat, attempting to rein in his galloping thoughts. "Sanaathana,
take Suneeta and a few other senior disciples and go in search of them in
the forest. I fear they may have met with some untoward accident."
He turned to Punjikasthala. "Punjika, prepare food for all."
He hushed the excited chattering of the class with a curt gesture. "The rest
of you – recite yesterday's hymns."
In the intervening moment of silence, "Come on, Chandra!" The call rang
merrily from above.
Brhaspati looked up in dismay at his clever parrot.
"Come on, Chandra!" Taara's warm invitation reached out to caress
Chandra's ears, as he stood on the threshold of his abode, gazing at the
profusion of flowering plants which filled the garden with a riot of colour.
He turned in obedience to her melodious call and returned to the
bedchamber. Taara stood near the bed which was piled high with the softest
of eiderdown mattresses. He came to stand beside her, encircling her
slender waist with his hand.
She leaned back to rest her head on his broad shoulder. "What a beautiful
bed!" she exclaimed.
"It was created by Viswakarma, the divine architect," Chandra added with a
smile: "for you!"
Taara shook her head wryly. "No, Chandra, this palace and its contents were
specifically created for you." She continued passionately. "But, now, I want
everything! Forever! The feather-soft beds, the golden swings – everything
is mine for all eternity! Will you let me have it all?"
Chandra smiled fondly. "Beloved, why such sudden vehemence?"
"I am sick and tired of the ashram’s frugality. Coarse grass mats for beds,
rough deerskin quilts, roots and leaves for meals … Ugh!" She snorted
delicately in disgust. "I hate ugly things!"
She turned to face him. "Look at me, Chandra," she commanded.
Chandra obeyed her with pleasure, his eyes roving passionately over her
lithe, exquisite body. She was beauty sublime. She had been created for him
alone: not Brhaspati!
"How do I look?" she asked.
"You are a fragile, golden creeper … " he paused to draw her close. ‘And I
am the pillar of support about which you will twine."
"Can a creeper be condemned to lie on coarse grass mats and animal
skins?"
"Never again, my love," Chandra declared vehemently. "I will never allow
that to happen. That is why I dared to bring you here to our Abode of
Bliss!"
A teasing smile played about her lips. "Then, tell me, where should this
beautiful creeper rest?"
Chandra pointed to the bed and whispered: "There, on the softest of beds."
She gazed into his eyes. "Not there, my Chandra," she laid her soft cheek
against his broad chest, "But here!" Eyes melting in love, he looked into her
upturned face. Her own eyes mirrored his emotion. He pressed her to him
passionately.
"Chandra, can I ask you for something?"
‘Anything, my love, anything!" he whispered against her hair.
"I want a son who reflects your beauty …" her voice was a murmur against
his breast.
Chandra tightened his embrace.
The extended search for Chandra and Taara led nowhere. Brhaspati was
forced to admit that his wife, in the throes of infatuation, had eloped with
his pupil. However, he held fast to the hope that she would soon realize her
folly and return to him. After all, Taara was his adored wife, a gift from
Brahma himself! He continued with the routine of the ashram, instructing
his disciples and executing his duties at Indra's court. Punjikasthala
managed the household chores.
Brhaspati did not confide in Indra: he was aware that the king of the devas
accorded Taara the reverence due to a mother – as befitting the consort of
their preceptor. He was unwilling to disabuse Indra of his good opinion,
confident that Taara would soon be back and no one outside the ashram any
the wiser.
The golden swing, carrying its precious burden, came flying towards
Chandra. He extended his hands and gave it a gentle push. His heart
clenched at Taara's sweet smile as the swing swept her away from him. As
the swing carried her to him again, he was flooded with the fierce pride of
possession. Just as the swing, which tried to carry her away, irresistibly
brought her back to him again and again, so it would be with any opposing
force in the world! She was his and his alone!
As the swing arched through the air and reached him, Taara jumped into his
inviting arms. She rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, "I
am tired."
"Tired of your favorite past time so soon this morning?!" He smiled down
indulgently at her.
"The swing makes me giddy," she said softly.
"Yet, earlier, you could swing for hours with me pushing you!" he teased.
Taara looked enigmatically into his eyes. "Chandra," she said, "Look at
me." He continued to gaze into her exquisite face.
She smiled at him. "Oh, your sweet innocence! What am I to do with you!"
She paused and continued in a serious tone. "I no longer enjoy swinging
because a little copy of you is swinging in my womb!"
"Really?" he was ecstatic. He pressed her tenderly to his chest and kissed
the top of her head.
She murmured softly against him. "It is only now that I understand
Brahma's blessing: 'Your one-fold marriage to Brhaspati will bring you two-
fold happiness!'" She caressed his strong shoulders. "Truly my joy is
multiplied many times over!"
Brhaspati, coming to the end of his morning worship, folded his hands in
silent prayer.
"Narayana! Narayana!" The familiar chant carried to him, announcing the
arrival of sage Narada, the quintessential cosmic messenger.
Brhaspati hurried to welcome his guest. "Pranam, revered sage."
Brhaspati bowed to receive Narada's blessing. "May you soon be reconciled
with your estranged wife!"
Brhaspati gave a startled gasp: "Narada!"
The sage smiled gently. "Brhaspati, why are you surprised at my knowledge
of your wife's extended absence?" He paused. "After all, the dissemination
of information is the purpose of my creation by my father, Brahma!"
Brhaspati remained speechless, with downcast eyes.
The sage continued, "Call off your disciples' futile search of the forest –
Taara and Chandra are not there."
Brhaspati looked up in rising hope. "Narada, do you know Taara's
whereabouts?"
"Of course, Brhaspati. Taara shares the beautiful abode constructed for
Chandra by the inimitable Viswakarma."
The deva-guru flushed and asked haltingly, "Narada … how … how is
Taara?"
"Oh, Taara is in the pink of health and spirits: in fact, she seems to be
happier with your pupil than with you."
Brhaspati lowered his head.
"Chandra has established her there as his wife. Let me give you the location
of his Abode of Bliss. Then, you can dispatch some of your disciples to him
as emissaries."
"Come on, Chandra!"
Brhaspati jumped as Taara's voice intruded on his dark thoughts. He looked
up at the parrot preening itself among the foliage of the tree. That accursed
bird! He would willingly wring its neck – or reduce it to cinders with a
curse! He sighed and controlled his unreasonable rage: at least the faithful
parrot had given him ample warning that his wife was enamored of
Chandra. He continued to gaze at the spreading branches of the tree, where
flowers had matured into fruits, marking the inexorable passage of time. He
sighed. His hope that Taara would return had dimmed to the faintest,
flickering ember.
Following Narada's counsel, Brhaspati had dispatched his senior disciples
to Chandra's abode to fetch Taara, making Chandra see the error of his
ways. The mission was a fiasco: Taara had lashed out viciously at them,
while Chandra had intimidated them with threats and manhandled them out
of his home.
Brhaspati himself, swallowing his self-respect, had personally gone to plead
with the recalcitrant couple. He had excused himself, thinking, After all,
Chandra is my disciple … and Taara is my lawfully wedded wife … she
deserves my forgiveness.'
Even as he attempted to convince Chandra that sleeping with his preceptor's
wife was one of the five cardinal sins, the arrogant young man shot back:
"This is not your ashram : Let's not have any of your lectures on morality
here!" Chandra looked down with disdain at his former guru. "And, for
your information, it is also a cardinal sin to reject a lady who desires to be
loved."
Brhaspati flushed at Chandra's vitriolic tone. Rubbing salt into his wounds,
Taara gave a haughty toss of her head and burst into mocking laughter. He
had endured a life-time of humiliation in that brief encounter.
"Pranam, gurudev!" Brhaspati looked up to find Indra before him.
"Mahendra!"
"You have abandoned my court, gurudev!" There was a note of reproach in
his voice. "And you have failed to confide in me Mother Taara's elopement
with that callow youth, Chandra."
"Yes, Indra – I foolishly convinced myself that it would all turn out well
shortly." Brhaspati stood with downcast eyes.
"Take heart gurudev : you have also failed to take into consideration the
depth of reverence in which the devas hold their preceptor." He sniffed in
disdain. "Forget those foolish elopers – I assure you that I will find you a
more beautiful and virtuous wife than the errant Taara."
"Mahendra!" Brhaspati gasped.
"Yes, gurudev ," Indra continued staunchly. "By embracing her husband's
disciple, Taara has forfeited both her chastity and her place as your wife."
Brhaspati addressed the king of the devas gravely: "Indra, let me tell you a
little known fact of dharma – a woman is cleansed of the sin of adultery by
her monthly curse. Her menstruation flushes her body of impurities and
makes her chaste once more."
Indra listened attentively. To him, the guru’s word was law. He bowed his
head, acknowledging Brhaspati's vast wisdom. "Gurudev, as always, I defer
to your wishes. In that case, I shall fetch Taaradevi and offer her at your
holy feet as my guru dakshina!" He stood resolutely. "I will not hesitate to
wage war against the feckless Chandra to gain my objective."
Brhaspati held out his hand in benediction. "May victory be yours, Indra!"
Vrshaparva ascended his throne, eager to deal with several pending affairs
of state. Acharya Usana, the rakshasa-guru, was seated in his place of
honor on the king's right. Just as the crowded assembly of asuras came to
order, a stentorian voice rang through the vast hall:
"Victory to Emperor Vrshaparva!" It was Timiraasura: the king's trusted
emissary and spy extraordinaire. All heads turned expectantly towards the
new arrival, as he approached the throne and bowed in salutation.
"Ah, Timiraasura!" Vrshaparva boomed. "Your haste suggests that you
come with information of great importance." He raised his bushy eyebrows
in interrogation.
"Yes, my king. I bring you momentous tidings which will gladden your
heart."
The asuras were now all ears. There was pin-drop silence in the court as the
spy cleared this throat.
"My lord, you know that Brhaspati, the deva-guru, married Taara. Now,
Taara has eloped with Chandra, one of Brhaspati's disciples. Chandra has
established her as his own wife in his private abode and is reveling in her
company day and night. Brhaspati, hopelessly infatuated with Taara, has
made several futile attempts to reclaim his wife: both personally and
through his envoys." He gave a significant pause. "Now, Indra, king of the
devas , has given Brhaspati his sworn word that he will reclaim Taara for
him: even at the cost of waging war against the young Chandra …"
"Enough!" Vrshaparva thundered. "What a caboodle of nonsense! Have you
lost your mind, Timira?" He snorted in disgust. "What is it to us if some
besotted boy chooses to elope with his master's wife?" He glowered at the
spy. "If you have information of real import, let's hear it, or else …"
Usana intervened with a placatory gesture. "Just a moment, Vrshaparva, just
a moment." He continued thoughtfully. "There may be more to this than
meets the eye." '
He turned to the nervous spy. "Now, Timira, give us the other details you
have gathered."
The relieved spy continued: "Master, I have discovered that Indra is ready
to send an envoy to Chandra with an ultimatum: either return the truant
Taara to Brhaspati or face the devas' wrath."
Usana jumped up from his seat in excitement. "There is not a moment to be
lost! Vrshaparva, I must set out immediately!"
The rakshasa king looked at him in bewilderment. "Where to, master?"
"To Chandra's abode."
"Master! To that feckless boy's residence?… You, in person? … But, why?"
Vrshaparva was aghast.
Usana laughed. "To ensure that Chandra does not cave in to Indra's
ultimatum."
"But, why, master? Why do you want to get involved in this foolish
romantic caper?"
"Think, Vrshaparva," Usana urged. "If Chandra refuses to surrender Taara,
what will Indra's next move be?"
"To honor his ultimatum, Indra will be forced to declare war on Chandra."
"Exactly! And what will happen if we in turn declare our support for
Chandra?" He paused to smile at the frowning rakshasa king. "Let me tell
you: once we have entered the fray, this little contretemps between Indra
and Chandra will explode into a full-scale war between the devas and the
asuras . The devas will be vanquished and the glory of Swargaloka will be
yours!"
Vrshaparva's face was wreathed in the broadest of smiles. He rose from his
throne and saluted his mentor. "Gurudev , we asuras are indeed fortunate to
have you as our preceptor! What guile! What brilliant strategy!"
Usana smiled and walked quickly to the hall's main exit.
Chandra gazed in perplexity at the majestic personage standing at his
threshold. He bowed instinctively in deference. "Greetings, Aarya! May I
know who you are?"
"Chandra, I am Acharya Usana, the preceptor of the asuras ."
Chandra folded his hands in respect. "And to what do I owe the honor of
your visit, revered Acharya ?"
Usana looked earnestly at him and announced, "I am here to defend you
against imminent peril."
"Peril?!" Chandra gasped.
"Yes." Usana paused for effect. "Taara and you face great danger." Usana's
authoritarian tone captured Chandra's undivided attention. "Come, let us go
inside and discuss these grave developments."
Seated closely side-by-side, Chandra and Taara waited anxiously on
Usana's words.
"A sinister conspiracy has been hatched to separate you from each other –"
the rakshasa-guru started somberly.
Chandra and Taara looked at each other in shocked surprise. Chandra tried
to comment, but words failed him.
Usana continued inexorably: "Indra has given his word to his preceptor,
Brhaspati, that he will present Taara to him as guru-dakshina . He has
sworn to declare war on you if you remain intransigent."
Taara reached out to clasp Chandra's fingers with her own. Chandra patted
her hand and turned anxious eyes towards Usana, who continued: "Indra's
envoy is on his way here even as we speak. He will deliver an ultimatum to
you: either surrender Taara to Brhaspati or confront the might of the deva
army. He will threaten to lay siege to your abode …"
Chandra blanched and put his arm protectively round Taara. He remained
speechless.
Usana's strong voice brimmed with assurance, as his powerful gaze held
Chandra's: "Chandra, do not fear. Your adored Taara will remain with you."
"But … I … I cannot face Indra's army …" Chandra murmured with
downcast eyes.
"You will not be called upon to confront the devas. The formidable asura
army, under the able command of my disciple, King Vrshaparva, will be
your bulwark against Indra's aggression. The deva’s will taste defeat if they
move against you. I give you my word that, henceforth, both of you will be
under asura protection."
Chandra and Taara exchanged looks. The alarm in their eyes gave place to
relief and growing confidence. They turned to Usana with one accord and
touched his feet in respect.
"Master," said Chandra, "We are deeply touched by your affection for us
and your compassionate understanding of our love for each other." He
choked with emotion. "We are indeed blessed to have your friendship."
A sardonic smile flitted across Usana's face. He locked eyes with Chandra
and declared proudly: "I, Usana, preceptor of the asuras, do not
dissimulate! It is neither affection nor compassion which has earned you the
rakshasas’ support. We are willing to take up arms on your behalf for one
reason alone: our all-consuming hatred for the devas."
He rose majestically and prepared to leave. As Chandra and Taara bowed in
respect, he said, "Chandra, have faith in me. Do not be intimidated by
Indra's threats. Challenge him to war!" He paused, his eyes on Taara. "Do
not withdraw your protection from this innocent maid who trustingly placed
her life in your care."
He lifted his hand in blessing. "May victory be yours!"
Usana's inspirational words, and promise of support, bolstered Chandra's
confidence. Indra's envoy was confronted by a haughty Taara, and a
belligerent Chandra, who defiantly threw Indra's ultimatum back in his face.
"I dare Indra to do his worst!" Chandra spat at the envoy.
Indra mounted his war chariot, driven by Maatali, and set out for Chandra's
abode at the head of his army. Brhaspati accompanied him. As they reached
the objective of their assault, the devas were shocked to find the asura army
arrayed in a protective phalanx around the palace. Vrshaparva and Usana
stood in the vanguard of this terrible force of demons. At the sight of the
devas , the rakshasas raised blood curdling battle cries that shook the earth
and the skies like the roar of thunder. With a sinister clash, thousands of
weapons sprang up from the massed body of aggressive demons.
"Naraya …"
Sage Narada, travelling across the sky, bit off his sacred chant as the
threatening rumble reached his ears. One startled look downward and he
summed up the crises. In the blink of an eye, the sage stood before Brahma,
explaining how Chandra's elopement with Taara had culminated in the
devas and asuras confronting each other on the battlefield. The anxious
Brahma jumped up from his lotus throne and hurried from Satyaloka.
Brahma, Narada by his side, stood between the two armies poised on the
brink of war.
Brahma sternly confronted Usana and Vrshaparva: "I am amazed at your
presence here! Surely, a trifling romantic misadventure cannot be the cause
of war between you and the devas! Furthermore, Chandra's elopement is
categorically a sin: it cannot be justified on any count. Reflect on your
actions!"
He turned towards the devas and beckoned Brhaspati and Indra forward. "I
trust that you will display the patience and fortitude which are in keeping
with your nature," he said, a tinge of reproach in his voice.
Brahma made his way to Chandra's palatial residence, where Taara and
Chandra saluted him with folded hands.
The Creator reprimanded them harshly: "You have both abandoned the path
of dharma and succumbed to mere lust. Your double betrayal of Brhaspati,
who is both husband and master, has caused him indescribable torment."
His voice dripped with sarcasm as he continued: "Of course, it goes without
saying that you have derived untold pleasure from your carnal sins – let that
suffice!"
Brahma's words rang in the chamber with the relentless clarity of a bell.
The Creator's penetrating glance bore into Chandra like a knife.
The youth thought in chagrin, 'This is what my own soul whispers to me.'
On her part, Taara conceded sadly, 'Brahma's words have the undeniable
ring of truth.'
Brahma turned to look at Taara. Bearing the baby in her womb, she was a
plump lotus bud. His gaze softened. "Taara. I hope you now understand the
meaning of my blessing: ‘Your one-fold marriage to Brhaspati will bring
you two-fold happiness!'" He smiled gently at her. "Return to the husband
decreed for you by fate. Be happy in his service!"
As Taara touched his feet in respect, Brahma blessed her: "Long may you
live with your husband!"
He turned back to Chandra. "As for you, young Chandra, Taara rightfully
belongs to your master. You will personally hand her over to your guru –
that will be your expiation for your sin."
Chadra bowed in obedience to Brahma. Chandra then slowly turned to
Taara with an aching smile and reached out to take her hand. Taara's fingers
entwined his like a creeper seeking the blessed support of a sturdy branch.
Their eyes locked in an agony of yearning. It seemed as though eons of
unsaid endearments and affection were compressed into those fleeting
moments. Taara blinked back her unshed tears and straightened her
shoulders.
Brahma stood with a gentle smile on his face, watching Chandra and Taara
walk away from him.
A happy murmur ran through the waiting crowd of disciples as Brhaspati
descended from Indra's chariot with Taara beside him. Refusing to
acknowledge anyone, including Punjikasthala, Taara quickly followed her
husband indoors.
Brhaspati made his way directly to the chamber of worship. He folded his
hands in prayer and gave thanks to god. He then turned to his wife: Taara
stood statue-like before him, her face devoid of expression.
Brhaspati said gently, "Welcome back home, Taara."
A faint tremor passed through her body. Her delicate lips were tender leaves
ruffled by the breeze. A veil of tears shaded her lovely eyes. She started
forward and bent to touch Brhaspati's feet, hampered by the weight of her
pregnancy.
Brhaspati tenderly raised her up and gazed into her eyes. "I have regained
my lost treasure," he whispered.
At these words, Taara burst into heaving sobs. Scalding tears coursed down
her smooth cheeks.
"Swami … Forgive me … I have betrayed you …" She wept inconsolably.
Brhaspati wiped her tears with gentle fingers. "No, Taara, it is Chandra who
has betrayed me." He tilted her chin up. "Look at me. We all have
nightmares – we will consider this to be one such unpleasant dream and
forget it."
"Swami …" she whispered.
"Yes, Taara, we will move on." He stopped to look proudly at her swollen
stomach. "Brhaspati's lineage – the Angiras gothra – will flourish through
you!" His voice mellowed. "I cannot live without you, Taara."
She gazed up at him through tear-filled eyes.
Taara brought a baby boy into the world at an auspicious moment under the
aegis of the Poorvaabhaadra star. Brhaspati's ashram resounded with joy.
Narada spread the glad tidings far and wide. Indra and the devas celebrated
the birth of their preceptor's son.
The boy's naming ceremony was held at the hermitage. Angiras and
Sraddha were there to bless their grandson, while Brahma, Narada and the
devas graced the occasion with their presence.
Angiras turned to his son: "Brhaspati, have you decided the boy's name?"
"Brhaspati does not have the right to name my son!"
All eyes turned in the direction of the angry voice – it was Chandra! Taara
froze with the infant in her lap.
Brhaspati, seated beside her in the midst of the jaatakarma rites, jumped up
in fury, his eyes blazing red. "You! … you despicable betrayer of the sacred
guru-sishya relationship!" He spat out his words in contempt. "You stole
my wife – now you are here to steal my son. You will not escape
retribution! Get out!" He moved threateningly forward.
Chandra stood his ground resolutely. "That boy is my son. If you choose to
delude yourself otherwise, you are merely claiming my lineage as yours!"
He laughed mockingly.
Brhaspati shouted, "Silence! It is my blood which runs in the boy's veins."
"You may continue to believe so. But, none can stop me from claiming my
own son." Chandra moved towards the cowering Taara.
"Stop right there, Chandra!" Brhaspati thundered.
Indra jumped up. "Gurudev, stay calm." He turned angrily towards the
intruder. "Let me deal with this turn-coat."
"Indra! Chandra!" Brahma's stern voice intervened, commanding their
instant obedience. "Do not turn the ashram into a battlefield."
The Creator turned to Brhaspati. "Brhaspati, keep a tight rein on your
emotions."
The deva-guru protested: "Grandsire, this concerns the crucial issue of my
lineage. Chandra …"
Brahma silenced him with a curt gesture. "Neither you nor Chandra can
judge the baby's paternity. It is only the mother who can bear witness to the
father's true identity. "
"I agree with Lord Brahma." It was sage Angiras.
Brahma turned to Taara. "Taara, take the child and come with me."
Taara followed him obediently with the baby in her arms. All eyes
anxiously awaited their return. Brhaspati and Chandra smiled confidently at
the guests, and glowered at each other, in turn.
After a few moments, Taara entered the room with downcast eyes. Her arms
were empty. Then, Brahma followed, carrying the infant. There was pin
drop silence in the hall.
The Creator mounted the dais and pronounced his judgement: ‘A child's
lineage must be proven beyond the least doubt. It is the mother alone who
can assert categorically from whose loins springs the child she bears. I have
explained the crucial importance of this principle to Taara." He paused and
held out the child. "Does he belong to Brhaspati? … Does he belong to
Chandra? …" He paused again. "Taara has revealed the truth of the boy's
paternity …" He looked round at his attentive audience.
"Chandra is the boy's father!" Brahma's voice resounded across the
chamber. "In your presence, I name the child, ‘Budha,'and give him to his
father, Chandra."
Brhaspati stood in speechless surprise. Chandra saluted Brahma and gently
took the child into his arms.
Brahma advised, "Chandra, Budha is your son. Raise him well and devote
the utmost attention to his education. Like yourself, he is to be anointed as
one of the Navagrahas."
Chandra bowed in respect. "I beg your leave to hand Budha into the
safekeeping of my father, sage Atri."
"You have my permission, Chandra – you may now leave."
Taara gazed yearningly at Chandra's receding figure through tear- filled
eyes.
Brahma turned to Brhaspati. "Brhaspati, take heart: your lineage will endure
and flourish. Taara will bear you many descendants."
The Creator held out his hand in benediction over the deva-guru. Brhaspati
bowed his head in reverence.
‘Aadityaaya cha Somaaya Mangalaaya Budhaayacha
Guru Sukra Sanibhyascha Raahave Ketave….’
I offer my salutations to Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra,
Sani, Rahu and Ketu
Nirvikalpananda recited the familiar chant to the Navagrahas and paused to
consider his disciples. ‘And now, we come to the birth of the remaining
grahas in their respective order."
A stir of excitement ran through his four sishyas.
Sadananda burst out: "Master, then it is time to hear about Sani!"
Nirvikalpananda smiled at his enthusiasm. "Yes, Sani is the seventh of the
Navagrahas. The story of his birth is filled with extraordinary events and
unexpected twists." He paused. "Sani is Surya's son. So, let's go back a little
in our narrative – We know that Surya married Samjna, Viswakarma's
daughter, and set up house in an isolated palace. Do you recall that Samjna
asked Surya to bless her with two boys and a girl?"
The disciples nodded eagerly.
"Well, Surya did grant her wish …"
"Ah!" interjected Shivananda, "Sani was one of the three children!"
The master smiled indulgently. "No, Shivananda: the elder son was
Vaivasvatha, the second was Yama and the daughter was Yami. Vivaswaan
being one of Surya's twelve names, the elder son was called Vaivasvatha.
He was in fact the Vaivasvatha manu who became the progenitor of the
Surya dynasty. Ikshwaaku, Nagaa, Saryaathi, and other well-known
personages, were his descendants."
He paused and looked at his attentive disciples. "Coming to the second son,
Yama, he was none other than Yamadharmaraja: the god of death. The girl,
Yami, took form as the river Yamuna … "
"Oh-ho, master," marveled Vimalananda, "So, Sani was born as their
youngest brother?"
Nirvikalpananda gave a gentle laugh. "Now, now – let me tell you the story
in its entirety!"
His voice grew serious again. "Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami grew up under
their parents' protection. At the time of our present tale, they were young
children. One night … "
The master resumed his discourse.
The Birth of Sani
A n uneasy silence lay over Surya's abode. The noise of children at play
was conspicuously absent as Surya walked into the bed chamber.
Samjna stood motionless at the open window, gazing up at the sky. Her
saree fluttered in the breeze, emphasizing the beauty of her body,
silhouetted against the evening light. Surya came to stand close behind her
and placed his hands gently on her slender shoulders.
Samjna flinched and jerked away from his touch. She gave him a fleeting
glance before turning away quickly.
"Samjna, what are you afraid of?" Surya teased her affectionately.
To his astonishment, she admitted sombrely, "Yes, I am afraid … "
A concerned Surya moved protectively close to his wife. "Dearest, what is
it?"
Samjna moved away from him, shading her eyes with her trembling fingers.
"Shall I tell you who it is who terrifies me?" she asked in tremulous tones.
"Tell me!" Surya said angrily. "Whoever it is, I will make him pay!"
His wife made a conciliatory gesture. "Please listen first –" She paused. "It
is you I am afraid of!"
"Samjna!" Surya gasped at this bolt from the blue.
"Yes!" she reiterated. "I tremble at your presence …"
Surya approached her with outstretched arms.
"Swami, please don't come any closer!" Samjna backed away from him.
Surya froze in confused disbelief.
She continued: "Forgive me, my lord – I cannot help it: I am unable to bear
the heat you emit."
Surya could not believe his ears. He stood speechless, staring at his wife,
who continued to hide her eyes behind her outspread fingers. A faint hope
dawned in his eyes – was this some kind of joke?
He asked, "Devi, are you making me pay for some transgression?" He
smiled. "Are you angry, dearest? Is this love's penalty?"
Samjna gave an anguished cry. "No! It is not love's penalty – it is love's
curse!" She continued her outburst: "I cannot bear the fierce heat from your
body … and my eyes are blinded by the harsh glare of your inner fire!"
even as she spoke, she edged further away from him.
Surya's own eyes darkened in hurt. "Then, tell me: how did you manage to
live with me all these years?" he asked quietly.
"I endured it … what else could I do?" She appealed to him piteously.
"Don't judge me harshly, Swami ! I just cannot tolerate your fiery presence
… please stay away from me … I am in agony!" She distanced herself from
him, backing into a corner of the room.
Surya smiled gently. "Have you forgotten the days when you adored
caressing my body?" he reminded her. "Days when you said my warmth
kindled the fire of passion in your heart?"
"Those days are gone! That was in the first flush of our union – how can
you expect the excitement of novelty and intimacy to endure? I was blind to
all your faults then." She kept her face averted from him.
"Samjna!" a note of impatience crept into Surya's voice. "In effect, you are
making me an untouchable with your unreasonable attitude."
She pleaded, "Swami, don't say that!" She finally turned to face him. "Will
you do one thing for me?"
"What is it?" he asked.
"For my sake, will you reduce the intensity of your heat and radiance?"
"Impossible!" was his instinctive retort.
"Swami, I am your wife – the love of your life!" It was Samjna's turn to be
hurt. "We are everything to each other!"
"Samjna, you are everything to me!" He continued gently. "But, I cannot
grant your wish, dearest. It is beyond my power to reduce my heat and
light."
"Swami … but, why not?"
"Be reasonable, Samjna. Can you change the inherent temperature of your
body?"
She hesitantly shook her head.
"No – in the same way, I cannot alter my own natural traits." He continued
firmly. "You have to learn to tolerate my presence, as in the past." "Swami
…"
Surya brusquely brushed her hesitation aside and declared firmly: "Samjna,
until you can arm yourself adequately with shields of affection and
endurance as a protection against my innate qualities, I shall not trouble you
with my presence."
He paused and his voice softened. "I shall wait for you to come to me."
He walked away from her.
Samjna sat helplessly on the bed, her face the picture of despair.
"Swami … "
Surya looked up at his wife's soft call and smiled encouragingly at her.
"I have thought hard about my predicament … I … I cannot bear to stay
away from you …" Surya's face lit up with radiant hope.
Samjna continued: "But, I need some time to fortify myself." She paused.
"Swami, let me go to my father's house for a while. There I will have the
leisure and space to introspect and strengthen my resilience. I will come
back to you as the wife I ought to be."
Surya said gladly, "That's an excellent idea, my dear! Go … and hurry back.
I will wait eagerly for your return."
Samjna appealed to him in a tremulous voice: "Swami, until my return –
promise me that you will take care of Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami."
"Of course, dearest – but you must hurry back!" Samjna returned his tender
smile.
Samjna had no intention of going to Vishwakarma's house. She was certain
that it was impossible for her to ever again endure Surya's all– consuming
heat and light. She needed to decide on her next course of action. She was
running out of time: after a few days, Surya would go to her father's house
in search of her: her absence would become known.
She walked towards the forest, where the blessed shade of trees wrapped
her in cool benediction. She sank down beneath the spreading branches and
pondered. She was needed as Surya's wife– what was even more essential,
her dear children needed her as a mother. What was she to do?
Instinctively, Samjna slipped into a gradual, deep meditation. She remained
utterly focused on her dilemma – her eyes closed; she was lost to the world.
The hours passed. Then – a sudden tremor of excitement rippled through
her still body. Her eyes widened in eager hope.
What if there was another woman who was a replica of her own self? A
woman who was identical to her in appearance, speech and gesture: her
double in every respect? Such a clone could easily pass herself off as
Samjna and take on the role of Surya's wife and more importantly, be a
mother to her little children! The exhilarating thought of being forever free
from Surya's simmering presence brought Samjna to her feet. Oh for the
liberty to spend the rest of her life in serene penance in these cool environs!
She paced in deep thought under the trees, as dusk fell and the shadows
lengthened. It was essential to carefully fan the tiny spark of her idea into a
steady flame … she subsided on the ground once more and resumed her
meditation.
The days sped past. Samjna persisted in her single-minded search for a
solution to her predicament, using the laser-sharp light of meditation to
show the way.
It was evening. Samjna walked to the lake and seated herself by the pellucid
water. Her mind incessantly grappled with the all-important question: where
could she find a woman who was her exact double? Her eyes were
captivated by the lotus blossoms which clustered near the shore. She smiled
at their beauty – her reflection smiled back at her from the mirror of the
lake's surface. A gentle zephyr lifted her upper garment. Samjna held it
back in place. Her shadow on the water replicated her demure gesture.
Samjna's heart raced in sudden excitement. There before her was her
double! Her shadow was her clone in every way. But, it was just an adjunct
to her own body – it had no individuality, no independent form. She
frowned in thought.
Then – what if she could imbue it with a life apart from her own? What if
she could fashion it into an entity in its own right? The frisson of discovery
thrilled her being. Yes – she would fashion her replica from her shadow.
She would endow it with every trait of her personality. Her shadow would
become her doppelganger. She squared her shoulders in confidence.
This task was not beyond her: after all, she was Viswakarma's daughter!
Right from birth, she had possessed unique powers, including the ability to
assume any form at will. Imbuing her shadow with life should be simple
enough!
Samjna quickly bathed in the lake. As she turned to make her way back to
the forest, her shadow fell on the path before her. She stopped in abrupt
thought. Then, scooping up some water in her cupped hands, she closed her
eyes, softly murmured an incantation and sprinkled the water over the
shadow. To her joy, in place of the shadow, there now stood her replica,
distinct in its own right! Her doppelganger had a bewildered expression on
its face.
Samjna gently said, "You are my double," and led it to the water. "Look at
our reflections."
Her replica clapped its hands in childish glee: "We are copies of each
other."
Samjna smiled and nodded in agreement.
"What is my name?" the clone suddenly asked. Samjna gasped at the sound
of her own voice emanating uncannily from her double's mouth.
She considered a moment. "You are my shadow … so, you are Chaaya."
She paused and added, ‘And I am Samjna."
"Why did you bring me to life?" Chaaya asked curiously.
"I need a double to take my place as Surya's wife, and to be a mother to my
children," Samjna explained gravely. "With you playing the role of wife and
mother, I will be free to pursue my desired penance in the forest.
"I am your replica – so, playing your part should be easy enough!" Chaaya
smiled. "For how long must I enact your role?"
"Forever," declared Samjna. "I give you leave to enjoy my husband's
physical and intellectual companionship forever." She paused. "But only on
one condition … "
‘And what is that?" Chaaya asked.
"Just as you accept my husband as your own, you must also wholeheartedly
embrace my Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami as your children – you must
lavish your unstinting care and affection on them always."
Chaaya looked gravely at Samjna. "Samjna, you gave me life. My body and
soul belong to you by right. Your wish is my command." She paused. "I
give you my word: I will not just act – I will live the part! I will be a wife to
your husband, and a mother to your children."
Deeply moved, Samjna, said: "Chaaya, your words warm my heart.
Looking at you fills me with joy – we are so alike that I consider you my
younger twin sister."
"I too feel that you are my dear elder sister," Chaaya replied. "We are
identical twins!"
Samjna clasped Chaaya's hand affectionately and led her to her place of
meditation.
Seated close to Chaaya, Samjna continued their conversation. "Chaaya, in
order to carry off our deception, you have to know everything – and I mean
everything! – about me."
"Just tell me once, Samjna: believe me, I am a fast learner." Chaaya smiled
confidently.
Samjna was delighted with Chaaya's alacrity and quick intelligence. She
started to fill Chaaya in on the myriad details of her life. "I am
Viswakarma's daughter. My father is the son of a Vasu and is the divine
architect … "
"Samjna!" Chaaya interrupted with an impish smile. "I am Viswakarma's
daughter – not you! Tell me about myself."
Samjna laughed at Chaaya's verve and continued. "Very well. You are
married to Surya, the son of Kasyapa and Aditi. You have two sons,
Vaivasvatha and Yama, and a daughter, Yami. A few days ago, unable to
endure the intense warmth and light emitted constantly by your husband,
you left on a sojourn to your father's house." She paused. ‘Are you clear on
this?"
‘Absolutely! So, I have left my husband's house. Carry on!"
"Now, you are returning to your husband, after arming yourself with the
fortitude necessary to endure his radiant heat."
"I go in your place as Samjna – Surya's wife. " She smiled reassuringly at
Samjna: "I will love your children as my own."
Samjna gave her a warm hug. "Let me tell you the intimate details of my
private life with Surya. Then you will be ready."
"Samjna!" Surya gasped in surprise at his wife's unexpected appearance at
the door.
"Swami," replied Chaaya, instinctively adhering to Samjna's instructions.
Surya walked eagerly towards her, hands outstretched in warm welcome.
"Samjna, our home has been shrouded in darkness since your departure."
Chaaya smiled aside and thought, 'How naive Surya is! He is the emitter of
all light – and here he is saying that Samjna's absence banished the glow
from his house!'
Aloud, she said: "Swami , I could not bear the separation from you and the
children." Her voice choked with emotion. "I stand before you a new
woman – I have renewed myself for you alone."
"Really?!" Surya was deeply moved. He held out his arms to her and
Chaaya ran into his embrace. As he held her close, Surya was filled with
overwhelming affection for his wife. Samjna was back: as she had
promised, she had composed herself to endure his intense light and heat.
Her body, trembling in his arms, was proof of her resolution.
"Samjna." Surya looked down at her face pressed against his chest.
"Swami ?" she murmured.
"Never leave me again."
"Never again, Swami ."
"I will keep you close to me forever," Surya declared passionately.
She clung to his shoulders in reply.
"Mother!" a delighted child's voice rang out. Surya and Chaaya moved
apart as Yami came hurtling towards them.
"Mother!" two other voices echoed Yami's glad cry. Chaaya embraced the
girl and turned to the door. Vaivasvatha and Yama dashed into the room,
close on the heels of their little sister.
'Just as you accept my husband as your own, you must also wholeheartedly
embrace my Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami as your children' – Samjna's
words resonated in her ears. Chaaya gathered the three children into her
embrace and planted warm kisses on their plump cheeks. Her heart filled
with gratitude to Samjna, her elder sister, for the gift of this life as Surya's
beloved wife.
Time passed. Chaaya immersed herself in Samjna's persona, enjoying her
physical intimacy with Surya as his wife, and also caring for Samjna's
children as her own. Surya, on his part, gave Chaaya his unconditional love,
never doubting for a moment that she was Samjna.
"Narayana!" Sage Narada saluted Sri Mahavishnu and Lakshmi.
"Why, Narada," Vishnu smiled in blessing. "I was just thinking it would be
nice to have you here!"
‘And here I am!" Narada exclaimed. ‘As I am here in answer to your
thoughts, Bhagavan, am I right in guessing that you have a commission for
me?"
"It is time for the incarnation of the seventh of the Navagrahas, Narada."
Vishnu smiled at the sage. "It looks like that cannot happen without your
intercession."
"Narayana! Narayana!" laughed Narada. "If you will it, who can prevent it
from happening?"
"No, Narada," Vishnu said gravely. "Your intercession is needed. The
seventh graha is to be Surya's son."
"Narayana!" Narada said in surprise. "Surya's son, my Lord? Surya already
has two sons."
"Narada, those two sons were begotten by his wife." Vishnu continued
enigmatically. "Now, our seventh graha will be born to the wife who is not
his real wife."
"Narayana!" Narada's voice mirrored his bewilderment. "The wife who is
not his real wife?!"
"Unable to endure Surya's intense heat and radiance any longer, Samjna
breathed life into her own shadow, Chaaya, and deputed her to Surya's
abode in her stead. Chaaya now lives there as Surya's wife and the mother
of Samjna's children, impersonating Samjna flawlessly."
Vishnu pointed out: "Chaaya is absorbed in Samjna's children: so much so
that the thought has never crossed her mind to have children of her own."
He looked gravely at Narada. "It is here that you come into the picture,
Narada – it is up to you to instigate Chaaya into having children of her own.
Suggest that she pray to Surya for this favor: only then can the seventh of
the Navagrahas take birth."
"As you command, my Lord!" Narada automatically bowed to Vishnu's
wish. "But, one small doubt – where is Samjna? Is she with her father?"
"Oh no, Narada! Surely you can see that her presence in Viswakarma's
house would reveal her secret?! … She is engaged in penance in the forest."
He raised his hand in benediction. "Go to Surya's abode, Narada."
"Chaaya!" Narada called out. He smiled when she turned to him. "You are
indeed Samjna's double!"
Chaaya, alone at home in Surya's absence, gasped and stammered, "I … I
… I am Samjna." She recovered her poise. ‘And who might you be?" she
asked haughtily.
"Narayana!" Narada said serenely. "I am Narada – and I am privy to the
secret of your impersonation." He continued reassuringly. "Don't worry,
Chaaya – I have your welfare at heart. Are you aware that you are an
innocent victim in this drama choreographed by Samjna?"
"Maharshi …" said the bewildered Chaaya.
"Yes, consider your position. Regardless of the care you lavish on them,
Samjna's children can never be your own." He paused for effect. He now
had her complete attention. "You are a woman in your own right. Only
when you bear Surya's children can you consolidate your relationship with
him. It is children who make a marriage truly meaningful."
"But … Samjna's children …" Chaaya frowned thoughtfully.
"Of course, they will remain here and continue to enjoy your care." He
cannily pointed out: "Moreover, did Samjna tell you not to have children of
your own?" Chaaya shook her head. "So, you are not betraying Samjna in
any way." He spoke firmly: "Chaaya, put aside your reservations and ask
your husband to bless you with children – at least three. You will then be
Surya's wife in every way."
Narada extended his arm in blessing. "Narayana!" His job done, the
satisfied sage made his departure.
Narada had skillfully sowed the seeds of dissension in Chaaya's receptive
mind.
'Samjna's children can never be your own.'
'It is children who make a marriage truly meaningful.'
'Ask your husband to bless you with children.'
Narada's words beat an incessant tattoo in Chaaya's heart. She pondered
darkly. Her impersonation was no longer a secret. How long would it be
before it became public knowledge? If Surya came to know of her deceit,
he would surely abandon her. She must take pre-emptive measures before it
was too late. Narada was right – the only way to consolidate her position
was to bear Surya's children.
After all, she had sacrificed her own individuality by assuming Samjna's
persona. She had given her unconditional love to her elder sister's husband.
She lived with the constant fear of discovery, playing a dangerous game of
duplicity. Her courage certainly deserved a reward – and that reward would
be her own children.
Chaaya came to a decision: Yes, Narada was right. She squared her
shoulders and walked resolutely to her bed chamber.
Chaaya plaited her long, lustrous hair before the mirror. Surya came to
stand close behind her. She adjusted the string of flowers adorning her braid
and smiled at his reflection in the glass. Surya placed his hands on her
shoulders.
"Samjna … your beauty never ceases to work its magic on me." He rested
his chin gently on her head.
"Ready with compliments – as always!" she smiled seductively into the
mirror. "But not so ready with gifts!"
"I have gifted my entire being to you!" Surya smiled back. "What more can
I give you, dearest?"
"What about a homecoming present on my return from my father's house?
Surely I deserve one!" Chaaya smiled mischievously.
"Yes, my dear – you are right." He caressed her shoulders. "I should have
given you a gift then, or on some other occasion." He paused and smiled at
her reflection in the glass. "Well, it's never too late to remedy a wrong.
Choose your gift now, Samjna."
"Really?" Chaaya asked.
"Yes: tell me what you desire. Whatever it be, it shall be yours."
"I want children," Chaaya said.
Surya's reflection mirrored his surprise. "Children?! Samjna, we have
children: ask for something you lack."
Chaaya insisted: "The only gift I desire from you is children."
Surya gently turned her round so that she faced him. He looked down into
her eyes, drowning in their dark pools of desire.
"Very well!" He laughed softly and teased: "You made your wish to my
reflection, but I am ready to grant it to you in person!"
Chaaya's arms tightened around his broad chest. Her eyes shone in triumph.
"Three children, Swami : two boys and a girl. Agreed?" Her coral lips
parted in delicious invitation.
"Agreed, dearest. How can I refuse such a charming request?!"
In the mirror behind them, their reflections merged to become one.
A fond smile played on Surya's lips as he watched Chaaya walk towards
him. Her pregnancy weighed on her, slowing her gait.
"Samjna, pregnancy suits you: how your body glows!" he said.
Chaaya smiled back at him. "Swami, it is but the reflection of your own
radiance."
Surya shook his head. "The inner light which makes you shine belongs to
neither of us, my dear. It comes from the son in your womb."
"So, tell me, Swami: will my son's complexion match my golden skin, or
will it reflect your flaming hue?"
"Why, dearest, his fresh, ocher radiance will combine all our yellows and
oranges in a unique palette of his own!"
Chaaya glowed with pride. "Yes, he will reflect the best of both his
parents!"
It was the eighth day of Pushya in the year Pramodootha. With the star,
Swaathi, in the ascendant, and the Ashtami moon waning in the sky, Chaaya
gave birth to a baby boy. Contrary to his mother's expectations, the infant's
skin tone was far removed from vibrant gold: in fact, he had the darkest of
complexions!
Chaaya looked askance at the weakly mewling infant with the dark, thin,
ill-proportioned body and strange, tawny eyes. She turned to Surya in
bewilderment.
"What is it, Samjna?" Surya smiled gently. " Is it the boy's complexion?"
"Swami , I expected him to be like you … "
"My son is like me, dear: he is my alter ego. My own golden body has its
indivisible, dark shadow. My son is my shadow: naturally, his complexion
is dark."
Aditi and Kasyapa, along with Viswakarma and his wife, were proud
grandparents at the baby's naming ceremony. To their delight, the Trimurti
and Narada made their unexpected appearance on the occasion.
Sri Mahavishnu addressed Surya: "Your son will always walk with a
measured tread. Restraint will be the hallmark of all his actions. The name I
have chosen for him will reflect these traits -"
Surya intervened devoutly: "Lord, our son is indeed fortunate to receive his
name from you!"
Vishnu smiled. "Your son is Sanaischara," he said.
The Trimurti blessed the infant. Shiva and Brahma advised Surya to devote
the greatest care to his education and upbringing, as the boy was destined to
attain eminence as one of the Navagrahas.
Kasyapa was delighted to hear that his lineage was now elevated to include
two of the Navagrahas.
Sanaischara flourished under Chaaya's special care. In due course, Chaaya
gave birth to a second boy. Surya named him Saavarni, in recognition of his
flaming complexion – a faithful reflection of his father's radiance. Lastly,
Chaaya delivered a baby girl, whom Surya named Tapati.
Chaaya reared her own three children along with Samjna's trio. As she
delighted in Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati, Chaaya's former affection for
the others gradually dimmed.
"And now we come to the birth of Rahu, the eighth of the Navagrahas."
Nirvikalpananda paused to look at his disciples. "Listen carefully," he
exhorted.
"Master, Rahu is also known as Simhikaagarbhasambhoota, isn't he?"
Shivananda interrupted. "Does this mean that he is the son of Simhika,
Kasyapa's wife?"
"Excellent, Shivananda!" the master smiled approvingly. "You are right.
Rahu is the son of Simhika – Kasyapa's wife and Daksha prajapatis
daughter." He paused. "The story of Rahu, the graha who is powerful
enough to swallow both Surya and Chandra, is simple enough. It begins in
Kasyapa's hermitage … "
Nirvikalpananda continued his narration.
The Birth of Rahu
K asyapa's wives sat companionably together at the hermitage, passing the
time of day in pleasant chatter.
Danu remarked: "We are all mothers – except Simhika."
"Danu, how can she have children? She is too slow!" Diti laughed
mockingly. "She neither prays to god for progeny – as Aditi did – nor does
she appeal to our husband – as the rest of us did!"
Riled by the amusement which greeted Diti's word, Simhika cried: "Oh,
please! I may be slow, but I am certainly not dumb!" She looked steadily at
each woman in turn. "Tell me, whom should I approach: god, or husband?"
Her voice was determined. "I will ask for progeny and prove my worth to
your satisfaction."
"If you pray to god, he will advise you to turn to your husband. So, you
might as well save time and approach our husband, the visible and merciful
god!" Kaala joked. The other women laughed knowingly.
Aditi, always gentle, turned to Simhika with a smile. "Our husband
possesses great power, Simhika. Go to him: he will advise you as to the
proper course of action. Pray to him – you will certainly be blessed with
motherhood."
Kasyapa sat in deep meditation under a tree on the bank of the river.
Simhika seated herself before him and waited. Kasyapa remained oblivious
to her presence, his eyes closed.
Unable to contain her impatience any longer, Simhika said: "Swami!"
Kasyapa slowly opened his eyes. He looked interrogatively at his wife.
"Simhika, why are you here?"
Now alarmed at her own temerity, Simhika stammered: "I … I … I am here
to ask a boon from you … "
‘A boon?" Kasyapa smiled indulgently. "Very well, Simhika. What do you
want?"
"I want a son."
"That's certainly a meritorious desire," Kasyapa said encouragingly.
"My son should possess great power and prodigious strength." She paused
and then rushed on excitedly. "Everyone should look on him with fear."
Kasyapa grew serious. "A son who is feared by all?!" He cautioned her.
"Think carefully before you define your boon, my dear."
Simhika remained intransigent. "I do not need to reconsider. I know what I
want: and that is a son who fills every heart with dread. He should be held
in the deepest awe by all."
Kasyapa sighed. "Very well, Simhika – come here." He beckoned her close
and laid his palm on her head. "I grant you the boon you seek: soon, a son
who possesses the traits you specified will frolic in your lap."
"Swami," Aditi conveyed the glad tidings to Kasyapa: "Simhika is going to
become a mother." She continued. "She is so eager to bear a son – I do hope
you blessed her with the beautiful son she desires."
‘Aditi, your younger sister did not ask for a handsome boy." Kasyapa
laughed wryly. "In fact, she was insistent that her son inspire fear in all
onlookers." He sighed. "It was a case of asking for the wrong boon at the
wrong time! She will give birth to a hideous son with the complexion of
raging fire."
"Swami!" Aditi was aghast at his words.
"Don't worry, Aditi." Kasyapa reassured his wife. "Remember that all things
come to pass as ordained by God's will. I am confident that Simhika's wish
was also instigated by God."
At the end of nine months, Simhika gave birth to a baby boy whose skin
glowed a deep red. Daksha and his wife, accompanied by Brahma, Narada
and Indra, graced the naming ceremony of Simhika's son.
Brahma informed Kasyapa that his youngest child was ordained to take his
place in the pantheon of the Navagrahas. He advised the sage to devote
great care to the boy's education, saying: "The child will grow to be
universally worshipped and influence the lives of all living creatures. He
will come to receive and renounce. In line with his traits, he is to be named
Rahu."
Rahu grew up in the care of Simhika and Kasyapa's other twelve wives. In
due course, Kasyapa commenced the boy's education.
"We have heard the antecedents of eight grahas," Nirvikalpananda told his
disciples. "Now, we come to the birth of the ninth graha – Ketu."
"Master, Ketu is almost always mentioned in conjunction with Rahu: there
seems to a close relationship between them." Vimalananda asked: "Like
Rahu, was Ketu also Kasyapa's son?"
"That's a very pertinent question, Vimalananda," the master said. "But it
cannot be answered with a categorical 'yes' or 'no.' The epics give us several
versions of Ketu's birth."
He paused to collect his thoughts. "In one version, Kasyapa and his wife,
Danu, had a son called Ketumantha. It is believed that this Ketumantha is
the Kethu graha – here, the fact that they are siblings explains the intimate
bond shared by Raahu and Ketu. Ketumantha is also reported to have taken
the later incarnation of Amithouja during the age of the Mahabharatha.”
Nirvikalpananda continued: "However, the Vishnudharmotthara Purana,
one of the eighteen Puranas, gives a different account of Ketu's origin.
According to this epic, Brahma was deeply concerned as the earth groaned
under the weight of the insupportable burden of life. In order to give the
earth relief, he created Mrthyu – the goddess of death – and ordered her to
destroy all living beings. The tender-hearted Mrthyu shed tears at his
ruthless command and refused to comply. When Brahma demanded her
obedience, the goddess heaved a fierce sigh; this sigh metamorphosed into a
pennant of fire, from whose flames emerged the infant Ketu. Brahma
declared that the boy would achieve fame as Ketu and Dhooma Ketu."
Nirvikalpanand paused to give his disciples time to digest this lengthy
explanation. "A third narrative revolves round the familiar Churning of the
Ocean of Milk. One account holds that an asura , Rahu, in the guise of a
deva, managed to partake of the amrita distributed by Mohini to the gods.
However, the Skandha Mahapurana gives an alternative version: ‘Tadaa
Raahuscha Kethuscha Dwaavethaa Dhaithya Pungvou, Devaanaam
roopamaasthaaya Amrthaartham twaraanvitou upavishtou tadaa
pankthyaam Devaanaam amruthaarthinou’ – meaning that two rakshasas,
named Rahu and Ketu, adopted the disguise of gods in order to share the
amrita ."
He paused questioningly as Chidaananda raised his hand. "Yes?"
"Master, which version do we accept?"
‘Any version we choose," suggested Shivananada.
Nirvikalpananda smiled and shook his head. "No, Shivananda. If each of us
chooses the version we personally prefer, there will never be a convergence
of opposing claims." He urged them: "We must subject the different
versions to strict analysis, find the common denominator which runs
through them all and then reach a conclusion." He paused for effect. ‘And
that conclusion should adhere faithfully to age-old beliefs." He smiled at
their puzzled countenances. "Come, let us subject the different versions to
an equity of treatment."
"But, master … how do we arrive at such an objective stance?" It was the
puzzled Vimalananda.
"Let us first hear the version of Ketu's birth which connects Kasyapa and
Mrthyu. That may answer your question."
Nirvikalpananda voice assumed its narrative tone. "In ages past, the earth
groaned under the unbearable weight of rapidly multiplying living beings,
who were yet to come under the ambit of death. Bhudevi, the earth goddess,
saw a calamity in the making … "
The Birth of Ketu
N arada, flying across the sky in the course of his routine peregrinations,
came down to earth to rest momentarily near the Himalayas.
Instantaneously, Bhudevi appeared before him.
"Narayana!" gasped the startled sage. "Mother! It's you!"
"Narada, I have watched you crisscrossing the sky and waited anxiously for
you to descend to earth."
"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage in concern. "Mother, I have never before
seen such abject woe on your countenance!"
Bhudevi said dejectedly: "Narada, I am weighed down by despair. Brahma
continues to go about his task of creation, ensuring that the children of
Manu proliferate exponentially. The entire burden of his creation falls on
me. It is becoming insupportable! I fear that I may collapse under the
intolerable weight at any moment!"
She turned her pleading eyes to him and continued urgently, "Narada,
convey my agony to your father, Brahma. Intercede with him on my behalf
and ask him to find a way to reduce my burden."
"Narayana!" Narada rose to the emergency. "I recall my father, and his
father, agreeing that it would be dangerous to increase the earth's burden
beyond a certain point. I will go to Satyaloka immediately!"
He flashed into the sky.
Narada stood before Brahma and Saraswati, giving his account of his
meeting with Bhudevi. He emphasized that the massive explosion in
population had brought the earth to the brink of imminent catastrophe.
"Son, this is indeed a grave matter," Brahma pondered.
"Father, suppose you take a break from creation …" Narada suggested.
Saraswati smiled gently. "That would be futile, Narada. The earth is unable
to bear the weight of its present burden of living things."
Brahma nodded in agreement. "Yes, son. Maintaining the population at its
present level is not the solution – a definite decrease in numbers is the need
of the hour." He frowned in thought. "I must give this deep consideration."
He turned to his son. "Narada, give Bhudevi my assurance that her burden
will soon be reduced."
"Yes, father," said the sage with alacrity and hurried on his mission.
Brahma pondered on the menace looming over the earth. Time passed but a
solution continued to evade him. His increasing impatience and irritability
fanned the smoldering embers of rage within him – tongues of flame roared
from his four heads and spread through the cosmos, posing a grave threat to
the animate and inanimate world. Oblivious to the inferno he had
unwittingly ignited, Brahma remained immersed in deep cogitation.
Parameswara, keenly aware that the universe was in jeopardy, appeared
before Brahma and caught his attention: "My dear Brahma, the intensity of
your thought process has pushed the cosmos to the brink of disaster. Come,
come: calm yourself – after all, your task is creation, not destruction!"
He continued, "I suggest that you create a power tasked explicitly with
death – this is the sole means of relieving the earth of its insupportable
burden." He paused. ‘As for me, I am the god of destruction: my duty is not
to take lives, but to grant peace to the dead."
Brahma nodded in agreement. Shiva was right: The very purpose of his
genesis by Lord Vishnu was creation. Creating life was his only duty – not
death. As Brahma ceased his relentless quest for a solution, a woman
emerged from his body, sporting a mottled red, black and yellow
complexion. She stood facing the south and raised bewildered eyes to
Brahma.
"Who am I?" she asked.
"You are Mrthyu, the goddess of death. I have created you to perform a
crucial task: bringing death to all the creatures of the cosmos. Commence
your duty at once!" commanded Brahma. Mrthyu immediately dissolved
into abject grief. The surprised Creator reached out his cupped palm to
catch the tears coursing down her cheeks.
The goddess sobbed: "Forgive me, Lord. Bringing death to innocent
creatures is blatant injustice: it is beyond me to perform this task. I abdicate
my responsibility and leave at once to undertake rigorous penance."
Shiva looked thoughtfully after the departing goddess and advised Brahma:
"Mrthyu's tenderness is an integral part of her femininity. Be patient and
gentle with her: you can persuade her to execute her duty in due course."
Mrthyu took her leave of Brahma and commenced her penance at
Dhenukaasrama. Suddenly, a grave voice cut through her meditation.
"Mrthyu!" It was Brahma.
"Swami!" exclaimed the startled Mrthyu.
"Mrthyu, I will persist in reminding you of your ordained duty. You are
destined to fulfill the purpose of your creation – and that is the destruction
of living beings. You cannot evade your fate. Accept the inevitable,"
Brahma smiled gently at the worried goddess and continued in softer tones:
"Mrthyu, listen to me: I will explain your brief. I do not require you to be a
hands-on, cold-blooded killer. When I explained the purpose of your
creation, I gathered the tears of sorrow which you shed. Each teardrop will
metamorphose into a fatal disease and death will come as a natural
consequence to living beings. All you have to do is oversee the process."
He urged her: "Accept your fate with grace, Mrthyu. Commence your
ordained task."
Mrthyu reluctantly acknowledged her helplessness in the face of fate.
Realizing that her hands were effectively tied, she heaved a searing breath
of surrender which became a streaming banner of heat. It shimmered in the
air … then, in its place, there appeared an infant boy!
Brahma smiled at the astonished goddess and said: "It was in expectation of
this birth that I let you walk away on the day of your creation. This is your
son, Mrthyu."
The goddess instinctively gathered the boy into her warm embrace.
Brahma continued: "As he emerged from a pennant of heat, he is Ketu – the
flag. He is yours to nurture and rear."
Mrthyu shook her head in reluctant denial. "Lord, you have assigned me a
mammoth task which will consume all my time and energy. I will be unable
to give the baby the care he requires. Please accept the boy as your own."
"No, Mrthyu: however, there is a perfect solution to your problem. Your son
has the innate traits of a rakshasa . As such, Kasyapa, who is the progenitor
of the rakshasa lineage, is the most suitable person to entrust with your
child's upbringing." He continued: "I will ensure that Kasyapa accepts Ketu
as a part of his family."
Mrthyu tenderly kissed the infant. "I am indeed blessed, Lord," she said.
"Swami! Swami!" Kasyapa's wife called urgently as she rushed into the
hermitage.
Kasyapa looked up from his meditation. "What is it, Danu?"
She held out the infant in her arms. "Look – a baby boy! I found him
playing happily among the bushes at the rear of our ashram ."
Kasyapa looked thoughtfully at the bundle in her arms. "He must belong to
someone … "
Dhanu interrupted excitedly: "He is my son – I found him!" She thrust the
child under her husband's nose. "Look: his face … his eyes … they are
exact replicas of my own children's!"
As Kasyapa remained silent, her impassioned voice rose. "Isn't that proof
enough that he is mine? He is my son – I will adopt him!" She fiercely
hugged the baby to her breast.
Kasyapa smiled indulgently. "Very well, Danu. You may keep him: I don't
see anyone objecting to that. After all, God's will reigns supreme!"
Danu gave a contented smile. Then, "Swami , what shall we call our son?"
Kasyapa pondered. "What name do you suggest, Danu?"
Before his wife could respond, a voice was heard: "Brahma has already
given the boy the name Ketu." It was Narada.
Kasyapa exclaimed in surprise: "Maharshi! It is you!"
"Nayayana!" Narada smiled. "I came explicitly to explain that my father
named the boy and sent him to you. He requests you to accept him as your
son and devote yourself to his upbringing."
Kasyapa folded his hands in respectful acceptance. "It will be our pleasure,"
he said.
Danu's eyes melted with affection as she looked down at the boy. "Perhaps
this explains why my breasts swelled with milk the moment my eyes fell on
the baby."
She murmured tenderly, "My son."
Ketu, Danu's adopted son, and Rahu, Simhika's child, developed the
strongest of bonds which was further strengthened by the inexorable march
of time. Even as infants, they were inseparable – they crawled at the same
time, moving side by side on chubby hands and knees. They went on to
toddle together on unsteady legs, holding each other for support. As they
grew old enough to commence their education, Kasyapa found, to his
amazement, that one could absorb the knowledge imparted by him to the
other.
Danu was rather suspicious of this extraordinary bond.
She said: "Swami , I suckled Ketu just as I did my other children – but,
instead of cleaving to his own siblings, he prefers Rahu's company." She
frowned anxiously. "What does this unusual behavior portend?"
Kasyapa smiled indulgently at her. "Who knows what runs in Ketu's little
head?! And that applies to Rahu also – he follows Ketu like a shadow!" He
paused thoughtfully. "Maybe they share a relationship of which we are not
aware."
Danu nodded slowly in agreement.
Kasyapa reassured his wife: "Perhaps it is Lord Brahma's will that Rahu and
Ketu grow up together, sharing the strongest bonds of affection." He
pointed out: "Danu, Brahma could easily have entrusted Ketu to the care of
some other maanasaputra and his family: however, he particularly chose us
to be Ketu's parents." He paused. "I think the Supreme God has ordained
that Rahu and Ketu are to grow up together, as inseparable as twins."
Danu shrugged aside her misgivings and said: "Whatever be the reason, I
am indeed fortunate to be Ketu's mother."
Rahu and Ketu entered manhood. Kasyapa arranged the former's wedding
with Simhidevi, while Ketu was married to Chitralekha. In due course,
Rahu and Simhidevi had a son called Meghahasa.
The passage of time did but reinforce Rahu and Ketu's strong bond of
affection.
Nirvikalpananda came to the end of his narration delineating the genesis of
the Navagrahas. He pointed out: "We have heard the genealogies of the
Navagrahas as per the timeline of their incarnations – not in the order in
which we recite their names in our daily prayers, or follow in astrology:
'Surya, Chandra, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu.'"
He considered his disciples, engrossed in the fascinating discourse. "Like
their births, the lives and times of the Navagrahas are of extraordinary
interest. Here, we will follow the familiar order of their names:
commencing with Surya and ending with Ketu."
He paused and smiled at his four students. "So, now we go back to Surya's
background." He turned to Shivananada. "Can you tell me who Surya's
parents are?"
‘Aditi and Kasyapa, master!" Shivananda answered eagerly.
‘And you, Chidananda: who is Surya's wife?"
"Samjna, Viswakarma's daughter, master," said Chidananda.
"Later, Samjna deputed her shadow, Chaaya, to impersonate her."
Nirvikalpananda said, "Excellent!"
He turned to the other two disciples. ‘And now you will tell us the names of
Samjna's and Chaaya's children."
"Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami are Samjna's children, master," Sadanand
said promptly.
"Master, Chaaya is the mother of Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati,"
Vimalananda said in his turn.
"I am pleased that you can recall these details." Nirvikalpananda smiled in
approval. ‘As I recounted, Surya's six children were growing up in Chaaya's
care. As time passed, Chaaya's love for her own three children stifled her
former affection for Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami. One day …"
The master picked up the threads of his discourse.
Part 2
The Life of
the Navagrahas
The Life of Surya
C haaya's dislike of Samjna's children festered like a hidden sore until it
burst into active hatred. She soon found herself unable to bear the very sight
of Vaivasvatha, Yama and Yami. One day, Chaaya gathered her three
children together in a secluded room and addressed them gravely:
"My dearest children, listen carefully to what I have to say. Vaivasvata,
Yama and Yami are wicked – they are a very bad influence on you.
Henceforth, I want you to avoid their company. Understand? You are not to
play with them or associate with them in any way."
Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati exchanged surprised glances.
Saavarni protested: "But, mother, our brothers, Vaivasvata and Yama, and
sister, Yami, are good … "
Sanaischara admitted grudgingly: "Yes, mother, they are always kind to us."
Tapati added her voice to the childish chorus: "Mother, they never quarrel
with us. We play together happily and they love us very much."
Chaaya admonished them: "You are too young to understand their
underhanded ways and great cunning. They …"
Tapati's eyes widened in surprise at this. She said, "But, mother: Sister
Yami likes me very much. She always lets me win the games we play and
never refuses me anything I want from her!"
Chaaya looked at her protesting children in exasperation. Keeping a tight
lid on her rising temper, she said softly: "My darlings, there is one
immutable truth which you must know – good people's eyes will project
their own decency on everyone they look at. As you are good children,
Vaivasvata, Yama, Yami mistakenly appear to be virtuous in your eyes."
Sanaischara asked eagerly: "Mother, we are good and decent – unlike the
others!" His voice throbbed with pride. "We are superior to them, right?"
Chaaya patted him approvingly on his back and smiled complacently. "Yes,
my son. It is only because you are good that you are misled into thinking
that those three are also good." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial
whisper. "Do you know what those wicked children told me?" She paused
for effect. "They said that you are bad children who get into all kinds of
mischief behind my back."
To her satisfaction, Sanaischara, Saavarni and Tapati gasped and looked at
each other in righteous indignation.
She reassured them: "Of course, I don't believe a single word said by those
liars! I know what good, obedient children you are." She added: "You
always follow my advice."
Sanaischara broke the uneasy silence which followed: "Mother, you are
right. I don't know why – but, whenever I see them, a flood of rage rises in
me! I have to hide the instinctive glare of hatred sparking from my eyes."
Chaaya smiled triumphantly and encouraged her eldest son: "That is the
normal reaction of all good children who are confronted by the wicked."
She warned him: "Henceforth, beware of them. Be careful not to let them
make you as wicked as they are."
Tapati's anxious eyes searched her mother's face. "But, mother, how can we
be careful?"
Chaaya reassured her daughter. "Don't worry, darling. All you have to do is
close ranks with your brothers." She addressed them as a group. "Stay away
from them. Be a tight-knit threesome and don't let them interact with you."
Sanaischara was elated at the turn of events. "Mother, I am the leader of this
group, right?"
"Of course, Sanaischara: as the eldest you are naturally the leader."
Chaaya looked at them gravely. "Now, children, you must remember one
thing: this is a secret among us. You must not tell Vaivasvata, Yama, or
Yami what I have said. Above all, you must not let your father know what
we have discussed today."
"Why should we keep this a secret from father?" Sanaischara asked
curiously.
"Because I am telling you to!" Chaaya shot back heatedly.
"But why?" Sanaischara insisted.
Chaaya heaved an impatient sigh. "Sanaischara, your father will not
recognize the truth in this. His fondness for those children makes him blind
to their wickedness." She paused to get their undivided attention. "You
know, he loves them more than he loves you."
The children were aghast at her words. Tapati's eyes filled with hot tears.
Saavarni asked: "Really, mother?" He murmured sadly, "We did not know
that father loves them more … "
"Now you know that it is your mother who loves you most and always puts
your welfare above all else," she smiled down at them. "So, it is your
mother whom you must always obey!"
Chaaya's brainwashing had its required effect on her three children. They
deliberately ignored Samjna's children and spurned their friendly advances.
The first overt rift occurred between Yami and Tapati, who was most
inclined to blindly accept her mother's advice. Tapati's love for Yami now
metamorphosed into an intense hatred of her older sister.
In her turn, Chaaya let the mask slip from her face and openly exhibited her
dislike for Samjna's children. Vaivasvata and Yama were bewildered by her
sudden change in attitude, while the soft- hearted Yami was broken-hearted.
Yama brought the issue into the open with his elder brother. "Mother no
longer treats us with affection, Vaivasvata. She openly shows her preference
for Sani, Saavarni and Tapati..…"
Vaivasvata agreed sadly, "Yes, Yama, I am also aware of this."
"Mother's change in attitude is deeply wounding. Let's take it up with
father," Yama suggested.
Vaivasvata placed a restraining arm on his brother's shoulder. "Yama, it
would not be right on our part to complain about mother to father. It is
wrong."
Yama shook his head in vehement protest and exclaimed passionately: "No,
it is not wrong! It is never wrong to point out another's offence. Be it one's
father or mother, justice is justice! Our mother cannot be exonerated of
wrongdoing just because of her position and age. The path of righteous
dharma is uncompromisingly straight and true!"
Vaivasvata smiled indulgently at his younger brother. "You are very
preoccupied with dharma these days, Yama!"
"Yes," Yama said gravely. "I believe that dharma is the very foundation of
all creation. This precept has slowly taken strong root in my mind." He
paused in deliberation. "Brother, it may have escaped your notice, but
mother's attitude towards us began to change subtly right from the time of
Sani's birth. It became progressively negative with the arrival of Saavarni
and then Tapati."
Yami raised her puzzled gaze to Yama's face. "I don't think I ever noticed
this change, brother."
"Nor did I, Yama," added Vaivasvata. "I cannot comprehend how it was
discernible to you alone!"
"The change was increasingly obvious in mother's eyes," Yama observed
sadly. "When she looks at them, her eyes fill with a tender glow. But, the
same eyes burn with a red-hot flame when they fall on us." He sighed.
"Now, even her voice openly reflects her hatred for us."
"Why does mother hate us?" Yami asked innocently. "Now that you have
pointed it out, I too recall mother's partiality towards the others. She always
breaks into smiles when she sees Tapati and is ever ready to praise her." Her
eyes filled with tears again. "But … when I go to her, she scowls and
chastises me for no fault of mine!"
"It is the parent's righteous duty to treat all their children with impartial
affection. It is against the code of dharma for a mother to discriminate
against any of her off-spring. I will no longer tolerate this injustice from
mother!" With this impassioned declaration, Yama walked out resolutely.
The others looked after him thoughtfully.
"Dharma, dharma, dharma …" Vaivasvata chanted softly. "This has
become Yama's constant refrain! I wonder what it portends."
Yami smiled in understanding. "He who recites the word, dharma , will act
in accordance with its dictates."
Chaaya smiled fondly at Sani, Saavarni and Tapati, as they relished the
ksheeraanna she had prepared specially for them. "Eat, my children. Let me
refill your bowls."
Sani paused with a spoonful of the rice and milk pudding raised halfway to
his lips. He stared unblinkingly at his mother and then looked meaningfully
towards the door. In silent comprehension, Chaaya followed his gaze:
Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami stood at the entrance.
Chaaya glared at the trio and scolded angrily: "Why are you here? Go to the
garden and wait until you are called."
Yama moved forward resolutely, accompanied by the others. "Mother, we
are hungry," he declared.
"Stop right there!" Chaaya's voice cracked through the air like a whiplash.
"Didn't you hear me? Go to the garden at once!"
Yami froze in mid-stride, her startled eyes wide with fear. Yama stepped
forward fearlessly to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his little sister. He
locked eyes with Chaaya. "We are hungry, mother. Give us some of the
pudding. Now, if you please!"
Chaaya's eyes reddened in anger. "Yama!" she thundered. "Be careful: your
behavior borders on disrespect!"
"My lack of respect is not towards you, mother." Yama stood his ground. "It
is the injustice meted out to us which I hold in contempt." He continued
determinedly. "I will oppose injustice whenever and wherever I encounter
it. I will not tolerate your unfair discrimination against us. We deserve our
fair share of your love and of the ksheeraanna ."
He turned towards his siblings and held out his hands to them. "Come,
brother. Come, Yami. Let's eat our share of the pudding."
Chaaya glared at Yama in fierce loathing.
Sani's face mirrored her emotions, as he complained: "Yama always
behaves like this, mother. Even when we play our games, he constantly
chants, ‘Dharma, dharma,' and uses it as a pretext to defeat us."
Chaaya looked angrily at the standing trio and declared: "I refuse to serve
you now. Let Sani, Saavarni and Tapati have their fill." Her voice dripped
with contempt. "Whatever remains will be yours."
Sani exhorted the others: "Saavarni! Tapati! Eat quickly: we must finish it
all! Don't let a drop remain in the bowl!" He started to gorge himself on the
pudding, hurriedly gulping down large mouthfuls.
Chaaya calmed him with a gesture and said, "No hurry, my son. Take your
time and savour the pudding: it's all yours!"
Yama addressed Chaaya gravely: "Mother, this is base injustice. We are all
your children and are equally deserving of your care. It is your ordained
duty as a mother to treat us with impartial affection." He straightened his
shoulders and declared: "We will not accept leftovers! If you refuse to serve
us, we will help ourselves to our fair share of the pudding!"
"Stay where you are, Yama!" Chaaya thundered. "You demand equal care
from me?" She paused and spat out at him: "Well, let me make it clear to
you: I refuse to treat you on par with Sani, Saavarni and Tapati.
Understand?" She sniffed in disdain. "Like it or lump it – there is nothing
you can do about it! Now, go!" She challenged him with an icy glance.
Yama's glared defiantly back at her with angry, red-rimmed eyes. He raised
his foot to step forward.
Chaaya exploded in a frenzy of rage: "You insolent, spoilt child! How dare
you raise your foot against me! Is it to kick me?" She pointed to the
offending foot. "Well, you can reap the consequence of your stubborn
defiance!" Her voice resounded harshly in the silence. "May your foot fall
from your body and provide fodder for worms!"
Yama froze in disbelief. The other children gaped with open mouths at
Chaaya's face which was a white-hot orb of fire.
The shocked Yama stammered: "Mother … you have cursed me! … how
could you?! … mother!"
The unrelenting Chaaya shouted: "Yes, I have cursed you! I will see you
dead! Now, get out of my sight: you are not my son!"
Yama's stared fearlessly into Chaaya's hate-filled eyes. Slowly, he bent to
look at his foot: hot tears welled up in his own eyes. Wordlessly, he turned
and made for the door.
Vaivasvata and Yami followed him as if in a trance…
"What?!" the astonished Surya gaped at his three eldest children. "Did you
hear her correctly? You may have misinterpreted her words!" He frowned in
disbelief. "No, this is impossible! No mother would curse her own child!"
Vaivasvata stepped forward and locked eyes with his father. "What Yama
says is absolutely true, father. Mother cursed him, saying that his foot will
fall off and become fodder for worms."
"Father," Yami brushed the hot tears from her cheeks. "Mother has been ill-
treating us right from the time of brother Sani's birth."
Surya looked silently at the grief-stricken trio.
"Father," Yama's voice was a tremulous whisper. "What will happen to my
foot? How can I walk if it –"
Surya moved swiftly to interrupt his son. "Do not fear, my boy. I cannot
revoke your mother's curse, but I can amend it."
He placed his right hand gently on his son's head. "Some flakes of flesh
from your foot will fall painlessly to the ground and the worms will feed on
them. In this way, your mother's curse will take effect and, at the same time,
you will not lose your foot." He paused to stroke his son's hair. "Cheer up,
Yama. Forget the curse!"
Yama's eyes filled with tears of relief as he looked up at his father's loving
face. Surya bent to wipe the tears from his son's cheeks and turned to his
eldest son. "Vaivasvata, I want you to tell me the truth: is your mother ill-
treating the three of you?"
"Yes, father," Vaivasvata said firmly. "We concealed this from you as it did
not seem right to complain about mother." He ordered his chaotic thoughts
and continued. "After the birth of Sani, Saavarni and Tapati, a marked
change crept into her attitude towards us. She looks fondly on them, but her
eyes are filled with hatred towards us. Today, she refused to serve us
ksheeraanna , telling us that we could make do with the leftovers."
"Mother always praises Tapati but constantly criticizes me using harsh
words." Yami piped up timidly.
"Father," Yama asked, "Can I tell you something?"
Surya bent his head towards his son. "What is it, Yama? Speak out, my
boy."
"The other day, I overheard mother advising Sani, Saavarni and little sister,
Tapati, to keep away from us. She told them that we are wicked children.
And … and …" his voice choked with emotion. He swallowed and
continued: ‘And today … after cursing me … she shouted: ‘You are not my
son – get out of my sight!'"
"Mother also threatened to see Yama dead, father," Vaivasvata added
gravely.
"Father, will mother really do that?" a tremor of fear underlined Yama's
words.
Surya looked speechlessly at the three forlorn children standing before him.
A frisson of rage coursed through his body. Then, he turned abruptly and
walked swiftly towards Chaaya's chamber. Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami
followed close on his heels, running to keep up with his long, angry strides.
"Samjna!" Surya's voice thundered across the vast palace.
Chaaya jumped up in surprised alarm. Her husband had never raised his
voice at her in all these years! One look at their father's crimson face and
Sani, Saavarni and Tapati took refuge behind their mother. Surya strode up
furiously to confront his wife. His burning eyes bored into her own. In
contrast to his flaming glare, his voice was as cold as naked steel.
"Did you curse Yama?"
A shiver of fear pulsated through Chaaya. For the first time in her life, she
was unable to bear the intense heat emanating from Surya's body. She
moved back, hugging herself protectively. She feared that she would be
burnt to ashes by his white-hot anger.
"How could you possibly have the heart to pronounce such a terrible curse
on your own son?" Surya hissed at her through clenched teeth. "You call
yourself a mother? You are a disgrace to motherhood!" His eyes blazed in
contempt. He brought his face close to hers. "And what do you mean by
telling Yama that he is not your son? Are you not his mother?"
For the life of her, Chaaya could not stop trembling like a storm– tossed
leaf. She was transfixed by the frenzied fire which swirled in the golden
hollows of Surya's eyes. His violent rage battered her like a thousand brutal
rays of unendurable heat. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Her eyes
brimmed with hot tears.
Are you not his mother?' Surya's accusation reverberated in her ears.
Unable to meet his eyes, Chaaya bowed her head in surrender. She realized
that she could no longer maintain her impersonation and conceal her pact
with Samjna. Her lips trembled as she struggled to speak.
"I … I am … I am not the mother of Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami," she
managed to blurt the truth.
"Samjna!" Surya shouted. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Swami, I am not Samjna!" There – it was said! Chaaya pleaded: "Please
forgive me, Swami – I am not your Samjna."
Surya eyed her in suspicious disbelief. "What?! What do you mean?" His
voice was troubled.
Chaaya lifted her head and locked eyes with him. "I swear I am not
Samjna." Her voice strengthened. "I am Chaaya – Samjna's shadow. Samjna
used her divine power to make me come alive in the flesh and imbued me
with her personality … she commanded me to impersonate her as your wife
and as the mother of her children … "
Surya stood speechless, spell-bound by Chaaya's incredible narrative.
Beside him, his six children listened with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
"Father," Yami gave an agonized cry and clasped Surya's legs. "Will mother
never come back to us?"
In reply, Surya hugged his daughter tight. His heart ached at his children's
grief-stricken faces. He had not entertained the least suspicion about
Samjna's innocuous request to visit her father's house. His mind was
flooded with regret: he had left his precious children under the care of a
woman who was not their mother; he had foolishly fallen for the drama
enacted by Chaaya; the physical intimacy and happiness he had experienced
with her was but a shadow of the real thing; his very life over the past years
had been one long falsehood!
"Father, we want our mother!" Vaivasvata and Yama pleaded in one voice.
Surya looked at their woebegone faces and bent to plant a kiss on his
daughter's head. Gently pushing her close to her brothers, Surya said,
"Vaivasvata and Yama, take care of your sister." He warned: "Stay away
from Chaaya."
"Father … what about mother?" Yami's eyes brimmed with tears.
"Don't worry, darling." His voice rang with the decisive clarity of a bell. "I
will come back with your mother."
Based on Chaaya's testimony, Surya made his way straight to the forest. His
heart ached with the sorrow of his long separation from his adored Samjna.
His soul was a conflagration of agonized pain: its fire even exceeded his
inherent physical heat! Although he sought Samjna with single-minded
determination, the forest was strangely quiet and bereft of life: not a single
wild animal or bird crossed his path; no secluded ashram or meditating
ascetic appeared among the dense foliage.
Suddenly, the loud neighing of a horse shattered the eerie silence of the
woods. Surya quickly set out in the direction of the sound, hoping to gather
some useful information from the horse's rider. A whinny reached his ears –
he thrust aside the brambles and thick bushes and hurried forward. He burst
into a clearing and stopped short. There before him was a large pond whose
pellucid water reflected the emerald green and cerulean blue of forest and
sky. But it was not the water which caught his attention: it was a pristine
white horse, standing still on the further bank of the pond. Surya
approached slowly – it was a mare.
The mare stood motionless, her large, limpid eyes gazing unblinkingly at
him. Her long tail swayed gently in the wind like a damsel's braid. Her
radiant body was dappled silver in the rays of the sun.
Surya was drawn towards the mare by some irresistible force. The lovely
animal kept her fearless gaze on him as he moved closer. When he locked
eyes with the mare, a pronounced tremor ran through her body. Slowly, her
fore legs began a rhythmic tapping on the ground. She continued to hold his
gaze. The mesmerized Surya gave a gasp of surprise – those eyes … where
had he seen them before? Surely, the message lurking in them was familiar
to him!?
Suddenly, the realization hit him; his entire body was covered with
goosebumps – these were Samjna's eyes! Yes, the beautiful mare was none
other than his Samjna! And her beloved eyes invited him to become one
with her.
In a trice, Surya assumed the form of a tall, majestic stallion.
The mare rubbed her cheek against the stallion's muscular flank. In his turn,
the stallion gave a soft nicker and bent his head to gently nuzzle her lovely
neck…
The secluded forest was the lone witness to Surya and Samjna's poignant
reunion with each other as stallion and mare. Free from all inhibitions and
restraints, they resumed their conjugal life in those sylvan surroundings,
making up for their long period of separation. Subsequent to their
passionate mating, the mare miraculously delivered three sons through her
flaring nostrils. Immediately, both Surya and Samjna resumed their original
forms and gazed fondly at their offspring: a boy with normal features, and a
pair of twins, sporting equine faces on human torsos.
Bowing to Samjna's wishes, Surya named the horse-faced twins Naasatya
and Dasra, while the third boy was given the name Revanth.
To Samjna's anxious query as to the fate of her sons, Surya said
reassuringly: "Our three miraculously born sons are not ordinary beings.
They are devas. Naasatya and Dasra will become divine physicians and
earn universal renown as the Aswinikumaras. Revanth will achieve fame as
the doyen of equestrian science." Samjna smiled in satisfaction.
Surya gazed lovingly into her eyes and said: "Samjna, I know all the details
of your pact with Chaaya. Your beloved children, Vaivasvata, Yama and
Yami, yearn for their mother. Come, let us go home."
Wordlessly, Samjna lowered her eyes. Beads of sweat shimmered on her
face and body.
Surya tilted her chin up with gentle fingers and said softly: "Yes, dearest, I
understand your predicament. I am now aware that my unyielding attitude
was largely to blame for our separation." He smiled tenderly. "For your
sake, I shall reduce the intensity of my heat and light. But, first, let us go
home."
Samjna broke into a delighted smile. "Swami, I am fortunate indeed!" She
paused. "But what about the Aswins and Revanth? – are we taking them
with us?"
"No, my dear. Their rightful place is Amaravati. The Aswins will be divine
physicians, while Revanth will serve as the equestrian expert of Indra's
court."
"But, father," Revanth asked, "How will we go to Amaravati?"
Surya smiled and pointed skywards. "Look, son. Sage Narada is here."
"Narayana!" Narada said with a happy smile, as he came to stand beside
them. "My father, Brahma, has entrusted me with the mission of escorting
the Aswins and Revanth to Indra's court." He turned to Surya. "Your sons
will achieve great eminence there."
"They are indeed blessed, Sage Narada," Surya said.
"Yes, they have received the blessings of the Creator." Narada beckoned to
the boys. "Come, young men. Let's be on our way!"
The Aswins and Revanth prostrated themselves at their parent's feet.
Samjna raised them up one by one and planted a tender kiss on their
foreheads. Surya gathered them into his fond embrace and bid them
farewell.
He had a parting word of advice for the Aswins. "My boys, do not confine
your skills as divine physicians to the devas alone. Let the human race also
experience the balm of your healing hands."
"Your wish is our command, father," the twins said in unison.
Sage Narada turned to Samjna: "Samjna, be aware that your adventures
were ordained by the Supreme God, Lord Vishnu. Chaaya's impersonation
of you, and your assumption of a mare's form, have both borne precious
fruit: Chaaya has given birth to Sani, Saavarni and Tapati, while you have
brought forth the Aswinkumaras and Revanth." He paused and said: "Sani's
incarnation was the main objective of Chaaya's creation." He smiled at her.
"Now, you can contentedly resume your life with Surya."
"Narada!" exclaimed the surprised Surya. "You have been aware of
Chaaya's charade all this while?!"
"Narayana!" the sage chanted. "It was God's will, Surya." He turned briskly
to his young charges. "And now, Indra's court awaits our arrival."
Surya and Samjna gazed skywards as their sons followed Sage Narada and
were soon lost to view. Samjna's eyes were moist.
Surya placed a consoling arm on her shoulders and said: "Come, Samjna:
Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami eagerly await their mother's return."
Samjna blinked away her tears and smiled up at him.
"Mother!" The delighted chorus reached Samjna's ears as soon as she
entered Surya's palace.
Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami came running into her outstretched arms.
Samjna hugged them close, lavishing her kisses on their bent heads. Her
eyes brimmed with tears of joy. Surya smiled fondly at the poignant scene
of Samjna's reunion with her children after long years of separation.
The sound of hesitant feet at the door caught their attention: Sani, Saavarni
and Tapati edged slowly into the room with anxious eyes. They stopped
some distance away from Samjna and gaped at her in astonishment – she
was a mirror-image of their mother, Chaaya!
"Mother …" Tapati's quavering voice broke the momentary silence. She
took a tentative step forward. Samjna smiled encouragingly at the three
children and beckoned them to her.
"Come here, darlings! I am your mother."
Pushing Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami gently aside, Samjna now gathered
Sani, Saavarni and Tapati into her open arms and embraced them.
Sani looked up at her. "Mother … that mother …?" he questioned, looking
back uncertainly at the door.
Samjna raised her voice and called, "Chaaya!"
Chaaya slowly entered the room and stood by the door, doubt clouding her
face. At Samjna's warm smile, she lowered her head guiltily.
"Chaaya, come here!" Samjna commanded her shadow.
Chaaya approached Samjna with reluctant feet – her eyes were fixed on her
three children.
"Chaaya, look at me!" Samjna insisted.
When Chaaya finally met her gaze, Samjna continued: "Chaaya, your
mission is complete. It is time for you to forget your individuality and
renounce your motherhood." Her voice became gentler. "Chaaya, you know
that you are merely my shadow and there is no reality to your existence.
Come, merge with me – it is time for us to become one again."
Chaaya gazed speechlessly at Samjna, who urged her: "Come on, Chaaya,
I'm waiting for you!"
As Surya and the children looked on in awe, Chaaya silently moved to
Samjna. She hovered beside her for a second – then, she fused into Samjna.
For a moment, Samjna stood still and sighed, gazing at her shadow which
was now silhouetted on the golden wall. She then turned to her children
with a reassuring smile.
"My dear children, don't worry. Chaaya and I are one and the same. You are
all my very own children." She reached out to caress them all in turn.
Surya smiled fondly at the happy tableaux before him: his family was now
truly complete!
"Unbelievable!" Viswakarma exclaimed. He listened in astonishment as
Surya gave him an account of his family's incredible experience in the
recent past.
Viswakarma sympathized with his son-in-law: "But, I must say that Samjna
was content enough with your radiance when she consented to marry you!"
Surya nodded and then said: "Father, I am determined to reduce the
intensity of my heat and light. This is the only way Samjna and I can live
together." He pleaded with Viswakarma. "I need your help. You must find a
means to cut down my inherent warmth and radiance."
Viswakarma pondered long on this and then addressed his son-in-law:
"Surya, it is practically impossible to reduce your light and heat as long as
you remain in your present form. It is essential that you resume your
original orb shape. This will enable me to use a circular file to reduce the
size of the disc. The orb will automatically lose heat and light in
correspondence with its size – and your present figure will also lose its
equivalent volume of heat and light."
Bowing to Viswakarma's counsel, Surya assumed a yogic posture and took
on the configuration of an orb. The divine architect took up his special file
and carefully shaved away an eighth portion of the disc. Once he was done,
Surya resumed his form. He gazed in surprise at the large quantity of gold
dust heaped on the ground.
Viswakarma remarked: "These gold shavings possess considerable power.
They should be put to good use." He paused thoughtfully. "Yes, I shall
fashion four objects of immeasurable value from this accumulated gold
dust."
"Four objects?" Surya asked.
"Yes, four priceless objects: the discus – Sudarsanam, the trident – Trisul,
the spear – Sakti, and finally, the flying vehicle – the Pushpaka Vimana,
which will wing across the sky like a bird."
Surya smiled at the architect in deep admiration. "Father, the Sudarsanam,
the Trisul, the Sakti and the Pushpaka Vimana are indeed divine objects!"
He asked curiously, "What will you do with them?"
"Surya, let me explain," Viswakarma voice was grave. "The force which
emanates from you when you assume the shape of an orb is in fact Lord
Vishnu's glorious power. I will offer the four divine objects fashioned from
your form to his son, Brahma. Let the Creator decide what to do with
them."
Surya bowed in gratitude to Viswakarma: "I am eternally grateful to you for
your help, father-in-law." He paused. ‘And now, tell me – has my innate
brilliance and heat indeed been reduced?"
Viswakarma smiled. "Samjna, your wife, and my daughter, is the one who
is best qualified to answer that question!"
Surya touched Viswakarma's feet in respect and took his leave.
Samjna was delighted to see Surya return with his heat and light dimmed to
bearable proportions. She gladly devoted herself to the role of wife and
mother once again.
As time passed, Surya could not fail to notice Yama's extraordinarily
staunch discrimination between dharma and adharma : right and wrong. He
recognized that Yama's unique trait was a harbinger of great things to come.
After much thought, he summoned Yama. "My son, I perceive great, latent
stores of wisdom and leadership in you. You must concentrate on
developing your individuality and intelligence. Brahma, the Creator, is best
suited to guide you on the right path." He paused and looked gravely at his
son. "Yama, in order to propitiate Brahma, you must undertake rigorous
penance. Go and commence your tapas in a secluded place of your choice."
"I bow to your wishes, father," Yama humbly said.
With his parent's blessings, Yama bid farewell to his brothers and sisters
and set out on his mission.
"And that brings us to the end of our chronicle of Surya's life,"
Nirvikalpananda concluded.
Vimalananda raised a hand to catch his guru’s attention. "Master, I have a
doubt."
Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "What is it, my boy?'
"Did Viswakarma manage to fashion those four divine objects from the gold
shavings from Surya's orb?"
"Undoubtedly, Vimalananda. We do know for a fact that the Sudarsanam
discus is Lord Vishnu's weapon, Lord Shiva carries the Trisul and the Sakti
is Lord Subrhmanya's weapon of choice. Brahma distributed these arms to
them."
‘And what about the Pushpak Vimana, master?" Chidananda asked eagerly.
"Brahma gifted the Pushpak Vimana to his friend, Kubera, the god of
wealth. Later, Ravana, the king of Lanka, forcibly took it from Kubera,"
Nirvikalpananda explained. "Let's leave it at that and take up Chandra's life
story, which is the subject of our next discourse."
He considered his disciples in turn and said: "We know that Taara returned
to her husband Brhaspati, leaving Chandra. Brahma gave Taara's son,
Budha, to Chandra after attesting that the boy sprang from Chandra's loins.
Chandra entrusted his parents, Sage Atri and Anasuya, with Budha's care
and lived a life of solitude in his isolated abode."
He paused. "Chandra passed the time in nostalgic reminiscence of the
halcyon days spent in Taara's company. One day, Sage Narada came to visit
Chandra … "
OceanofPDF.com
The Life OF Chandra
"N arayana!" Narada stood at the threshold of Chandra's palatial abode.
Hearing the familiar chant, Chandra rose reluctantly to receive his guest.
"Welcome, Sage Narada," he said, hands folded in respect.
"May good fortune come your way!" Narada blessed him. The sage's keen
eyes noted Chandra's listless eyes and lethargic gait. "So, Chandra: it looks
like you continue to wallow in sad nostalgia!"
Chandra heaved a deep sigh. "I must confess that my heart still aches with
memories of the past."
Narada gave a wry smile. "I can well understand that an illicit relationship
with one's master's wife will cause heartache." His mocking tone became
gentle. "Chandra, Taara has departed from your home – it is not right to let
her memories continue to dwell in your heart."
"That's easier said than done!" Chandra remarked with a scornful curl of his
lips.
"Narayana!" Narada settled himself in a comfortable chair. "Well, it was
easy enough for Taara!"
Chandra eyes asked a question.
"Yes, Chandra," Narada smiled complacently. "Unlike you, Taara has erased
the past from her heart and mind. She is now content to be a devoted wife."
Chandra bowed his head in sorrow.
Narada continued more sympathetically: "Taara has managed to put her past
misadventure behind her because she could count on her husband's
unconditional support." He paused meaningfully.
Chandra's eyes darkened with an undecipherable grief.
Narada's voice assumed a persuasive tone. "Chandra, you are young. You
are punishing yourself needlessly by living here in self-imposed solitude,
without a woman's companionship." He urged: "Think, Chandra:
Brhaspati's unstinting affection and concern were instrumental in erasing
the lingering shadow of your memory from Taara's heart. In the same way, a
woman's loving companionship will free you from Taara's stubborn hold."
Chandra nodded his head in half-hearted agreement.
"You must get married, Chandra," Narada stated firmly. "Marriage is the
most reliable remedy for love-sickness!" An impish smile lit his face.
Chandra turned his back to Narada and stood stiffly, staring at the wall.
The sage continued: "If it is the difficulty of finding a bride, after the
debacle of your elopement, which worries you – let your mind rest easy!
Your extraordinary good looks and youth are reason enough for everyone to
assume that it was your master's wife who seduced you."
Narada paused a moment. Then, "I'm sure you are familiar with Daksha
prajapati: at present, his palace is bursting at the seams with lovely
maidens!" He lowered his voice suggestively. "In fact, right now, there are
twenty-seven girls, shining like beauteous stars, who are ready to get
married." His keen eyes noted that Chandra's shoulders relaxed fractionally.
Narada continued: "Daksha knows me well – if I were to go to him with a
proposal … "
Chandra turned to face Narada. There was a new animation in his face.
Narada smiled in satisfaction. "So, Chandra, shall I approach Daksha and
his wife on your behalf?"
"No," Chandra said quickly. "I would prefer to ask my parent's permission
before making any move."
"Take it from me – you can safely leave it to Daksha to obtain your parent's
consent. He is a go-getter beyond compare!"
For the first time since Narada's arrival, Chandra smiled.
Narada rose and locked eyes with Chandra: "Listen to me, Chandra. Taara
is no longer the Taara of old. She has willed herself to become Brhaspati's
true-hearted wife. You must not entertain fantasies about another man's
staunch, wedded consort."
With this grave warning, the sage made his departure.
Daksha prajapati frowned in deep thought, as he considered Narada's
proposal. He remarked discontentedly: "Narada, Aatreya is notorious for
taking his master's wife to bed!"
"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage. "Once she fell in love with him, Taara
used her irresistible beauty as bait to trap the naive Chandra. He was but a
callow youth whom she enticed into her bed." He paused and pointed out:
"Anyway, Brhaspati himself has conceded that their sins have been purged."
Daksha murmured uncertainly, "You are right, but … "
His wife interrupted: "Narada, tell me what you think – is Chandra a
suitable groom for my daughter?"
Narada turned to Prasootidevi. "Not daughter – daughters!" He smiled at the
bewildered expression on her face. "This is not my proposal: it comes from
my father, Brahma. I am only the executor of his will." He continued
reassuringly. ‘As to whether Chandra is worthy of your daughters,
remember that his handsomeness captivated Taara and she was willing to
have a child by him." Narada smiled. "Your twenty-seven daughters are
glowing beauties. Let Chandra be surrounded by these lovely stars."
"So, this has been ordained by Lord Brahma. Very well," Daksha made up
his mind. "Let us obtain permission from Atri and Anasuya to make
Chandra our son-in-law." The prajapati stood up decisively.
"Fortune will smile on us!" Narada pronounced his benediction on their
cause. "I will accompany you to Atri's ashram ."
Atri and Anasuya extended a warm welcome to their unexpected guests.
When Daksha explained the purpose of their visit, Atri and Anasuya
exchanged astonished glances – a marriage proposal for their errant son?!
Atri bowed his head in sorrow. "Our Chandra sinned grievously by sleeping
with his master's wife: his action has brought great dishonor to us, his
parents." He sighed. "We were obliged to take on the responsibility of
bringing up his son through Taara."
Narada brushed aside his recriminations. "Sage Atri, forget the past.
Budha's birth as Chandra and Taara's son happened by divine decree." He
argued, "The time is now ripe to accept Daksha's daughters as Chandra's
wives."
Atri smilingly pointed out: "Narada, you are using the plural form."
Narada said serenely, "My choice of the plural was deliberate, Maharshi."
He elucidated with a smile: "Lord Brahma has made it explicit that Chandra
is destined to have a large number of wives!"
"It is becomingly increasingly clear that Lord Brahma himself firmly holds
the reins of our Chandra's past, present and future!" Atri exclaimed.
"I can readily accept that," Anasuya said aside to Prasooti. "You must be
aware that Chandra was born to me as part of Lord Brahma's essence."
"Yes, Anasuya, it is Lord Brahma who sent Narada with the proposal to
make our daughters your daughters-in-law," Prasooti replied in calm
resignation.
"Twenty-seven girls …" Anasuya said thoughtfully. Then, she shrugged
aside her misgivings and smiled mischievously. "Well, I must say that, with
this veritable army of wives standing guard, our Chandra will definitely not
have the time or inclination to think about another man's wife."
The others laughed aloud at Anasuya's light-hearted repartee.
Still chuckling, Atri turned to Daksha. "Daksha prajapati, Anasuya and I
accept this proposal. You may make arrangements for the marriage."
"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed in satisfaction. As the assembly discussed
the coming marriage with mounting excitement, Budha approached them
with an armful of sacrificial wood and grass.
Atri beckoned the boy forward. "Budha, my son, come and offer your
respects to Daksha prajapati, his wife, Prasooti, and sage Narada."
Budha obediently paid obeisance to them all and received their blessings.
Narada smiled at the boy. "Budha is a replica of Chandra as a boy. Taara but
admitted the truth when she acknowledged that Budha was Chandra's son."
Atri and Daksha, with Narada's counsel, fixed an auspicious date for the
marriage.
Chandra's marriage was solemnized on schedule. The groom stood in the
midst of a circle of twenty-seven radiant brides, each of whom held a
sparkling diya in her hand. Under Prasooti's direction, her daughters –
Aswini, Bharani, Krthika, Rohini, Mrgasira, Aardra, Punarvasu, Pushyami,
Aaslesha, Makha, Purva Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Hastha, Chitta, Swathi,
Visakha, Anuradha, Jyeshta, Moola, Poorvaashaada, Uttaraashaada,
Sravana, Dhanishta, Sathabhisha, Poorvaabhaadra, Uttaraabhaadra and
Revathi – gracefully held out their clay lamps towards their husband. The
handsome Chandra glowed in the mesmerizing flicker of the golden flames.
"Behold the handsome Chandra among his beautiful stars!" exclaimed the
appreciative Narada to Daksha prajapati.
Chandra slowly turned to look at each of his brides in turn. His eyes shone
with the reflected light of the diyas. Suddenly, he came to a standstill: his
eyes were arrested by one face whose radiance seemed to outdo the
combined luster of the other twenty-six.
'Hmmm,' Chandra thought, 'I know her name … yes, Rohini!' He turned
away with difficulty.
'She pulls at me like an irresistible magnet!'
Chandra and his brides arrived at his palatial abode. The air was thick with
palpable excitement, as the girls prepared themselves for their roles as
dutiful wives, as advised by their mother. The three eldest, Aswini, Bharani
and Krthika, prepared the first meal at their new home. The chattering
group laid the dining table and waited expectantly for their husband's
entrance. Suddenly, Aswini realized that Rohini was nowhere to be seen!
She turned to Moola and said, "Sister, go and see what Rohini is up to."
The others laughed at this.
Moola remarked jocularly, ‘As if she has worked any harder than the rest of
us!" and prepared to go in search of her sister. But, before she crossed the
room, the door opened and Rohini entered in their husband's company.
Rohini leaned on Chandra's arm which encircled her slender waist like a
belt of gold. Laughing at some shared joke, they were oblivious to the
presence of the other twenty-six sisters. Chandra and Rohini blithely seated
themselves side by side at the table. As the others debated as to who should
join them, Chandra firmly resolved the issue, by declaring unequivocally:
"Rohini and I will eat first and then spend some time enjoying the breeze in
the garden. The rest of you can eat together after we leave the hall."
He paused and looked expectantly at them. "Come, now – who is going to
serve us?"
Once Chandra and Rohini left for the garden, an uneasy silence prevailed in
the hall. The other twenty-six sisters sat down to a meal which seemed to
have turned into ashes in their mouths. After hurriedly swallowing a few
mouthfuls, they followed in the couple's wake. To their surprise, not a trace
of the two was to be found! After a futile search of every nook and corner
of the garden, they held an anxious consultation.
"Perhaps they have returned to his chamber while we were having our
meal," said Aswini thoughtfully.
Bharani agreed and said, "Yes, that must be it! Come, let us join them at
once … otherwise our husband will be angry!"
The girls hurried indoors again.
Aswini and her younger sisters came to a sudden standstill outside
Chandra's room as Rohini's voice pealed in laughter from within.
"What will my sisters think?!" they heard her exclaim.
"Who cares?" Chandra replied flippantly. He paused and continued
playfully: "Tell me something – at our recent meal, did you eat all the items
served on your plate, or only those which you liked?"
"Only the ones I liked, of course," Rohini said.
"There you are!" laughed Chandra. "Just as we cannot eat all the items
served at a meal, we cannot enjoy the company of all the inhabitants of an
abode. Just as we choose what we like to eat, we also choose the company
of those we like!"
In agreement, Rohini added her merry laughter to Chandra's deep guffaws.
Aswini soundlessly moved away from the taunting door and made her way
to a distant room. Her younger sisters followed sadly. They silently lay
down in a row on the floor and settled down to their first night as brides in
their new home.
Aswini,' Prasooti's voice reverberated hollowly in her ears. 'You will be
your husband's senior wife. Chandra will first seek your intimacy. Act in
accordance with his wishes and gladden his heart. Also ensure that your
younger sisters please him in every way.' Aswini's eyes filled with unshed
tears.
Krthika, lying stiffly awake beside her, whispered: "Sister, why are things
going wrong? Didn't mother say that our husband would give you
precedence?"
Brushing her own doubts aside, Aswini consoled her younger sister. "Who
knows? Maybe he assumed that Rohini is the eldest among us." She
whispered, "Don't worry, everything will work out."
The atmosphere in the room was oppressive with the heavy sighs of the
twenty-six forlorn new brides.
As the days passed, Aswini's hope that Chandra and Rohini would come to
see the error of their ways gradually dimmed. Chandra ceased to look at, let
alone talk with, any of his wives, except Rohini. He was completely
immune to their overtures. They were no longer allowed to even wait on
him at his meals. Rohini alone served his food, with Chandra tenderly
feeding her the choicest morsels from his own plate.
Rohini's indifference to their plight deeply wounded her sisters. They had
grown up together, sharing their childhood song and dance and happy play.
Now, the same sister who had enjoyed their warm companionship and
intimate confidences, studiedly ignored their very presence. She looked on
them as if they were twenty-six strangers in her home: not just strangers,
but servants who were duty-bound to obey her every command.
The days merged into weeks and the weeks into months. Chandra continued
to keep the sisters at an ever-growing distance, treating them with icy
indifference.
One day, Mrgasira declared: "Enough is enough, sisters!" Her voice was
resolute. "It is time we took a stand against this injustice and asserted
ourselves." She looked at the others in turn. "Today, when our husband and
Rohini go for their customary swim in the pond, we will insist on
accompanying them."
Aardra spoke up in agreement. "Yes, we must show some spirit if we are to
be given consideration. I propose that we join them in the pond - even if it
is over our husband's objection."
The other sisters silently nodded their approval.
Chandra and Rohini, hands clasped affectionately, walked through the door
leading to the garden. Rohini's sisters, adhering to their plan, followed close
behind them. Chandra, descending the steps to the pond, paused and looked
back in irritation. He frowned darkly.
"Stop right there!" His voice was harsh. "Where do you think you are
going? Return indoors at once and go about your assigned tasks!"
Mrgasira and Aardra resolutely ignored his words, and continued their
descent towards the pond.
"I said stop!" Chandra's voice was white-hot with fury. "What is your
name?"
"Mrgasira … "
"Mrga – how very appropriate your name is!" Chandra's voice dripped with
sarcasm. "It explains why you are behaving like an animal!"
He turned angrily to the others. "Go in, at once: all of you!"
Mrgasira, deeply wounded by her husband's words, dissolved into tears and
ran indoors, accompanied by a trembling Aardra. Their other sisters
followed them with downcast eyes and heavy hearts.
Chandra and Rohini's jeering laughter hounded them into the palace.
A pall of collective gloom descended on Aswini and her twenty-five
younger sisters. Far from the comfort and security of their childhood home,
and bereft of their parent's affection, the girls wilted under the humiliation
and insults meted out to them on a daily basis. The husband whom they had
joyfully followed to their new home treated them with utter disdain, and a
cold indifference, which cut them to the quick.
Chandra's harshness was compounded by Rohini's selfishness and
overbearing manner. Spurned by their husband, and constantly goaded by
their sister, Daksha's twenty-six daughters sank into despair.
One afternoon, the despondent girls sat in abject misery, exchanging a few
desultory words.
"Narayana!" They looked up to see Sage Narada standing before them.
They quickly rose to welcome him with respectfully folded hands.
The perceptive sage took one look at their woebegone countenances and
exclaimed in surprise: "Aswini! What is the matter? Where is Chandra? Is
he away from home?"
"He is at home, Maharshi," Aswini said softly, "But we do not know
where."
"And what does that mean?" Narada questioned her sharply.
Bharani spoke up. "We are always in the dark as to where he and our sister,
Rohini, may be …" she broke off sadly.
Narada looked intently at the group. The sisters sported a uniformly forlorn
look: disheveled hair, carelessly arranged attire, red-rimmed eyes and grief-
stricken faces, with kohl-smudged cheeks marking the track of hot tears.
The sage addressed the eldest girl. ‘Aswini, the anguish in your hearts is
reflected clearly on your faces. As the person instrumental in your marriage
to Chandra, your happiness is my responsibility. Tell me: what is the
matter?"
Daksha's daughters gazed speechlessly at his concerned face, unable to
meet his eyes.
Narada continued: "Your father and I are both Brahma's maanasaputras:
this makes us brothers. So, I am also your father." He paused. "Your forlorn
looks are far removed from the customary joy of new brides. What is the
reason for this?"
Her younger sisters turned expectantly to Aswini, letting her take the lead.
Narada addressed her: "Come, Aswini, my daughter: confide in me as you
would in your father."
Narada's kindness finally broke down her wall of reserve and Aswini
dissolved into wracking sobs. Her sisters wiped their own tears as she gave
Narada a painful account of the indifference and humiliation Chandra and
Rohini had subjected them to over the past months.
Narada listened attentively to their tale of woe. He then gathered them
together and said: "So, this is the issue! Let us see what is to be done …"
He pondered for a few moments. "You are innocent girls. You must now
make a deliberate effort to attract your husband and secure his love, like
Rohini."
"And how do we go about that, Maharshi ?" Bharani mustered the courage
to ask.
Narada smiled gently at them. "You are all soft-natured and benign: these
saatvic traits have their own merit, but much more is needed to attract a
man. Wallowing in sorrow and patiently waiting for your husband's
attention will get you nowhere." Narada paused meaningfully. "Action is
called for. It is time you learnt to add the passion of rajas to the tenderness
of satva.’ He looked at their attentive faces: "Devotion and respect alone
will not win your husband's affection. Passion and charm are also essential
to gain his love: do you understand?"
Daksha's daughters exchanged looks of dawning comprehension.
Narada continued: "Let's translate this into practical terms: you must be
better groomed and ornamented than Rohini. You must bubble with high
spirits and scintillating conversation." He smiled at them. "Surround
Chandra with an effervescence of happiness – smother him with joy!"
Aswini nodded her head in eager agreement. Her sisters shared her rising
excitement.
"Narayana!" Narada stood up. "I will return in four days. I am confident
that your faces will be glowing with happiness when I see you again."
It was dusk. Aswini and her younger sisters stood in the corridor outside
Chandra's room, waiting expectantly for their husband's arrival. They were
attractively decked out like new brides: from their exquisite sarees to the
fragrant braids of flowers in their hair. They had made impeccable
preparations for his reception.
'Here he comes!' Their palpable excitement throbbed in the air.
Chandra strode towards them. The sisters fell smoothly into their well-
rehearsed moves. As he crossed the threshold, Punarvasu and Pushyami
placed a golden platter on the floor before him. Aslesha and Makha each
took a hand and guided him to stand on the plate. Aswini came forward to
tenderly wash his feet with the cool, scented water which Bharani poured
from a golden ewer. Hastha sprinkled the residual water in the plate on her
own head and on the heads of all her sisters. Aswini then garlanded her
husband with colourful, fragrant blossoms.
Chandra frowned in bemusement and absently removed the garland from
his shoulders. Bharani immediately stepped in with another garland. As he
walked forward, Daksha's daughters gently showered Chandra with flowers.
Ignoring all this paraphernalia, Chandra's restless eyes, ablaze with desire,
incessantly sought Rohini.
He turned crossly to Aswini, who stood beside him, and demanded: "Where
is Rohini?"
Before Aswini could find her voice, the door of the bedchamber was flung
open and Rohini stood before them. Chandra's face was immediately
wreathed in tender smiles. He gazed adoringly at Rohini: then, as his eyes
took in her disheveled attire and unadorned hair, he frowned in disapproval
- not at her but at her hapless sisters!
"You call yourselves women?!" he spat at them. "Shamelessly decking
yourselves in gaudy finery!" He paused to glare at them in contempt. "Did
none of you think to offer my Rohini some flowers for her hair?" He hissed,
"You are disgusting!"
Before the shell-shocked eyes of Aswini and her sisters, Chandra removed
the garland from his shoulders and tenderly draped it over Rohini. Placing
his arms round her, her drew her close and walked into the bedroom.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Aswini's doe-like eyes hardened into adamantine stone. Her younger sisters
flinched at the sparks of rage which flashed from them. She remained
frozen in statuesque stillness, oblivious to their soft calls of entreaty. The
humiliation meted out to them the previous evening was an all-consuming
inferno in her soul.
"Sister …" Krthika hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.
Coming to startled animation, Aswini jumped up and declared resolutely: "I
will no longer tolerate this gross injustice!"
She stormed past her siblings and angrily strode to Chandra's bedchamber.
Her twenty-five younger sisters milled about in confusion for a moment and
then followed in her wake like churning waves after a ship.
Aswini stood defiantly before the closed door and loudly called: "Rohini!"
Her summons echoed angrily through the long corridor.
"Rohini!" the word rang out yet again in challenge. The younger girls
exchanged anxious looks.
"Rohini!" Aswini's insistent call hung in the air. The bedroom door was
flung open: Rohini stood before them, face crimson with rage.
"Shh!" she hissed at them through clenched teeth. "What is the meaning of
this ruckus? Don't you know that he is sleeping?"
"Yes, we do!" spat Aswini. "I am here for the express purpose of awakening
him from his slumber!"
She locked eyes with her sister. "Rohini, snap out of your delusion: are you
not aware of the damage you are causing? Do you realize that you are
instrumental in the humiliation and injustice being meted out to us?" She
struggled to control her rage. "Open your eyes to the circumstances of our
marriage, sister. Chandra does not belong exclusively to you: we are all his
wives. Admit the error of your ways and give way!"
Rohini's lips curled into a cruel sneer. She held out her hands in sarcastic
parody. "Look, sister: I have not forcibly tied him to me with the edge of
my saree ! If he voluntarily chooses to hover round me like a honeybee
poised over a flower, what can I do?" She gave an elaborate shrug. "You are
welcome to entice him in any way you like – rest assured I will not stand in
your way."
"It is your bounden duty to remind him of his obligation towards us,"
insisted Aswini.
Rohini looked haughtily at her sister. "Aswini, let me make one thing clear:
on the day of our marriage, I did not ask him to take me alone into his
embrace and spurn the rest of you. And now, I will not spurn his advances
and ask him to embrace you instead!" She continued on a mocking note.
"Shall we just say that I am lucky … and you are not?!"
Aswini raised her voice in angry accusation. "Rohini, shame on you – you
are behaving like a harlot! One last time, let me warn you: you had better
accept that we too have our claim on him as his wives. Don't you dare … "
"What? – steal your rights?" Rohini interrupted with a sniff of disdain. "I
am sick of your mealy-mouthed platitudes and tears. Leave me alone!" She
slammed the door in their faces.
"That's the last straw!" Aswini shook in uncontrollable rage. She moved
angrily towards the closed door – only to come to a sudden halt. The door
flew open on its own accord – Chandra stood before them, his eyes blazing
with temper.
"So, you are ready for a confrontation, is it?" He gave a snort of disgust.
"Well, let me spell it out for you once and for all: Rohini is the love of my
life. She is the only reason I have given you access to this palace. Don't
waste your petty wiles with flowers and scented water on me!" His mocking
voice lacerated their sensibilities like a whipcord.
He turned angrily toward Aswini: "And, as for you, I heard every word you
said about my Rohini. Now, just get this into your thick head: Rohini is my
queen. If you wish to remain in this palace, you may do so only as her
servant – and mine. Understand? Now, go!" He barked his dismissal at them
and turned away with a withering look of contempt.
As Chandra moved back into the bedroom, Rohini came forward to close
the door. Chandra placed his hands possessively on her slender shoulders.
Rohini gave her sisters a triumphant smile as she shut the door in their
faces.
Aswini, head held high, walked out of Chandra's palace, followed by her
sisters.
Daksha prajapati seethed with indignation as he listened to his daughter's
tale of woe. Prasooti's eyes misted at the sight of their grief-stricken faces.
"Leave aside our son-in-law: he is a stranger," she paused in pained
disbelief. "How could Rohini do this to her own sisters? Her behavior is
inexcusable: she has ruthlessly discarded the relationships lovingly nurtured
over the years!"
"You did not send us to Chandra's palace to be servants!" Aswini declared
passionately. "Why should we submit to that selfish couple's authority? We
would rather stay here and serve our parents." Her sisters chorused their
agreement.
Prasooti turned to her husband. "Swami, what shall we do?"
"I burn with anger at the humiliation meted out to my beloved daughters."
Daksha controlled his temper with difficulty. "But this is not the time to let
emotion cloud my thinking. Understanding and compassion are called for
now, more than ever." He paused and smiled at his daughters: "You are
exhausted by the ordeal of the past months. Stay here for a few days in your
mother's loving care."
He addressed his wife: "Prasooti, I will personally meet Chandra and
Rohini and resolve this issue."
"Narayana!" Narada extended his hand in blessing towards Rohini, who
welcomed him to Chandra's palace.
He asked casually: "Where are your sisters, daughter?" Narada was quick to
note the flash of disquiet in her eyes.
"They have gone to my father's house," Rohini murmured.
"Leaving you alone?" Narada persisted in his interrogation. "Why did they
go? Were they, by any chance, goaded by anger or pique?"
Rohini's eyes shifted uneasily at Narada's inconvenient questions. To her
relief, Chandra made his timely appearance.
"Pranam, Sage Narada," Chandra greeted their visitor. "Maidens love to
adorn themselves with anger and pique, don't they?" His voice was
studiedly careless. "Daksha's daughters have gone on a brief visit to their
parents."
"What a witty answer, Chandra!" The sage's eyes twinkled in wry
amusement. "I must say that you are indeed fortunate to enjoy the anger and
pique of twenty-seven maidens!" He paused meaningfully. ‘As it was I who
arranged your marriage, I take a personal interest in your welfare."
Chandra remained stubbornly silent.
Narada shouldered his lute and rose saying, "I dropped in here on my way
to Brhaspati's ashram. I will be on my way, now."
'Narayana! Narayana!' his chant receded as he disappeared into the distance.
Chandra and Rohini heaved sighs of relief at his departure.
Chandra looked up in startled alarm as Daksha prajapati made his sudden
appearance, accompanied by his twenty-six daughters. Rohini's eyes
clouded with anxiety.
Daksha seated himself majestically on a chair, his daughters ranged behind
him. Rohini alone stood beside Chandra.
The prajapati’s commanding voice filled the hall. "Chandra, I married ten
of my daughters to Dharma, and gave another thirteen as wives to Kasyapa.
In both cases, my girls are leading lives of fulfillment as wives and mothers.
Out of respect for your parents, and in appreciation of your radiant good
looks, I bestowed my twenty-seven beautiful stars on you." He looked
sternly at his son-in-law. "But you have sinned – just as stealing another's
wife is a crime, spurning one's own wife is also a serious offence."
Daksha paused, giving Chandra time to digest his criticism. Chandra
averted his eyes at this overt reference to his misadventure with Taara.
Daksha continued: "You sinned in the past when you eloped with your
master's wife. By humiliating and rejecting Aswini and her twenty- five
younger sisters, you are sinning yet again." His voice lost its severity.
"Chandra, as your father-in-law, I am also your parent. I forgive your
transgression and give you a chance to redeem yourself. Treat all my
daughters with impartial affection. Do not lavish your attention on Rohini
alone and discriminate against the others."
Daksha rose and addressed Aswini: "Aswini, my daughter, take your sisters
and go to your rooms. From today, your husband will keep you all in his
tender care."
The girls obeyed him with rising hope dawning in their faces.
Daksha turned back to Chandra who remained silent. "Aatreya!" Daksha
chided him. "I am waiting to hear your response."
Chandra slowly looked up to meet his father-in-law's intent gaze.
Daksha reiterated: "I am willing to overlook your offence this time." His
voice hardened in warning: "I will not be so magnanimous in the future. If
you continue to sin, rest assured that you will receive a curse from me: you
may consider it to be your dowry from your father-in-law. Is that
understood?"
Chandra nodded perfunctorily.
Daksha addressed Rohini: "As for you, Rohini, go to your room at once: I
wish to speak with you in private."
Rohini quickly made her way to her room, followed by her father. She
closed the door and stood waiting in silence, her head bent in contrition.
"Rohini!" Daksha's voice was stern. "Your mother and I never dreamt of the
selfishness lying dormant in you all these years! Are you aware that you are
casting a blight on the lives of your twenty-six sisters? You are not
Chandra's senior wife - you have usurped Aswini's rightful position with
your guile." His voice grew gentle. "Remember that, like you, your sisters
too cherished a thousand tender hopes when they entered this house as new
brides."
His penetrating gaze brought a flush to her face, as he continued: "Rohini, I
expect you to make amends for your unacceptable behavior, examine your
conscience and do your duty. It is your obligation to make your husband see
the error of his ways. Apologize to your sisters and live amicably with
them."
‘As you command, father …" Rohini murmured.
"I go now - but, rest assured, I will be back if further injustice is done to
your sisters!"
Daksha prajapati stalked out of her room.
Rohini collapsed weakly on the bed.
Aswini and her younger sisters waited expectantly in their chamber, but
their hopes were dashed yet again: Chandra did not summon them.
Seeing their chagrined faces, Awini assumed a cheerful tone and said:
"Sisters, I'm certain that our husband is finding it awkward to make the first
overture towards us. Consider his sensibilities and pride – he would not
want us to think that his actions are dictated by fear of our father."
She smiled encouragingly at them. "Let's be patient. He will come to us in
his own time."
Her sisters struggled to convince themselves of the truth of her argument.
Rohini sat hidden among the shadows of the bedchamber, lines of anxiety
marking her brow. Her father's words echoed ominously in her ear.
Chandra set a lighted lamp beside her and tilted her chin up with gentle
hands. His smile was tender as he reassured her. "My darling, pay no heed
to your father's threats. He fails to see that I am absolutely unsusceptible to
curses." He looked into her eyes. "Now, tell me: is Daksha prajapati greater
than Brhaspati, the preceptor of the gods? Is he more powerful that
Mahendra, the king of the devas?" He paused and gave a defiant smile:
"Even when I made love to his wife and begat a son through her, did the
great Brhaspati dare to curse me? Did Indra, his staunch adherent, think to
pronounce a malediction on me?"
"Why not, Swami ?" ventured Rohini, timidly.
Chandra gave a proud laugh and declared: "The handsome Chandra,
beloved son of Atri and Anasuya, is immune to curses!"
Rohini said hesitantly, "My sisters … "
Chandra gave an impatient shrug. "Oh, they can go to the dogs, for all I
care." He caressed her cheeks and said: "Rohini, I swear I belong to you
alone - Rohini's lover … Rohini's servant … Rohini's husband! Your sisters
will remain Daksha's daughters: they can never be Chandra's wives." His
voice was softly cajoling. "Come, give me a smile, dearest!"
"Swami," Rohini murmured.
His eyes blazed in sudden rage. He hissed through clenched teeth: "What
insolence! To go to their father's house without my permission – to make
false accusations against me – to hide behind Daksha's threats!"
Chandra's face was dark with ominous fury. "Let the new day dawn: I will
show them who I am!"
Rohini snuggled up to Chandra and rested her cheek against his broad chest.
She gazed adoringly into his angry eyes. "Swami … your anger …"
Chandra looked down at her, the glow of love banishing the darkness in his
eyes. "Rohini, one touch from you is all it takes to convert my anger into
affection."
His arms tightened round her.
Aswini and her sisters jumped up in glad surprise as Chandra entered their
room unannounced.
One thought flashed through all their minds: 'He has seen the error of his
ways!'
Chandra looked at each of them in turn. "Yes, I have come for you."
Twenty-six faces glowed in rising hope.
"Just as I drew Rohini close to my heart …" he paused deliberately: "I will
not do the same with you!"
He laughed cruelly, as the incipient light of happiness was snuffed from
their eyes. "How dare you go to your father's house without my permission?
You had the temerity to make false accusations against me and my beloved
Rohini! You even had the gumption to instigate your father to threaten me!"
He sneered at them. "Is that how you prove your loyalty to your wedded
husband?"
He glared at them defiantly. "Do you think I can be intimidated that easily?"
He gave a sniff of disdain. "I give a fig for your father's curses! No one –
neither your father, nor mine – can force me to accept you as my wives!"
His voice assumed a decisive tone. "Get this clear in your wooly- headed
minds: Rohini is my only wife. You are her servants – and mine. This is the
immutable truth!"
The sisters stood stock-still in stunned disbelief. The only sign of life in
their frozen bodies was the tears which coursed down their pale cheeks.
Rohini took up her position close beside her husband. Their arms entwined
in a snake-like embrace. A triumphant smile lit up her eyes.
She glared haughtily at her sisters and said: "I hope that has made things
clear to you all. You know your position here. It's up to you to take it or
leave it!" She gave an elaborate, indifferent shrug.
Sparks of rage banished the tears from the eyes of Daksha's other daughters,
which now flashed fire.
"Has the cat got your tongues?" Chandra rudely asked: "You heard my
queen – do you consent to your role as servants? Rohini cannot wait all day
to assign your menial tasks."
Aswini straightened her shoulders. She held her head high and made her
way to the door with decisive steps. Her younger sisters followed her lead
and trooped behind her.
Rohini shouted at their retreating backs: "Oh, drop your veneer of hauteur!
Don't you want to know what chores I have in mind for you?"
Not a break in their strides, Aswini and her sisters crossed the threshold and
walked away without a backward glance. Chandra and Rohini scornfully
watched their departure.
Chandra looked down fondly at Rohini: "We are well rid of that gaggle!
Now we have the palace to ourselves!"
"And what shall we do with all this privacy?" Rohini smiled up at him
seductively, moving back to lean her head on his muscular chest. She
reached back with her uplifted hands to clasp his neck, garlanding him with
her slender arms. Chandra's hands encircled her slim waist.
Daksha's daughters dimmed into a fast receding speck on the horizon.
"Chandra!" The furious voice was a resounding clap of thunder which
shattered the short-lived privacy of the palace.
Chandra and Rohini jumped up at Daksha prajapati’s peremptory summons.
Rohini blanched with fear. Chandra reassured her with a confident smile
and pressed her hands.
"Chandra! Come out at once!" Daksha's command rang through every nook
and cranny of the abode.
Chandra, with Rohini clinging to his side, walked to the entrance with
studied nonchalance and confronted Daksha prajapati and his twenty-six
daughters.
"Welcome!" he said, with an elaborate gesture of invitation.
Daksha locked eyes with him. "It is not I who seek an invitation into your
palace: it is my daughters who come to claim their rightful place in your
life." He glared at his son-in-law. "For the last time, are you willing to
accept my daughters as your lawfully-wedded wives?"
"Father-in-law, of course I accept that I married your twenty-six daughters,
and Rohini. On your part, I'm sure you will accept that it is the wife's duty
to serve her husband." He shrugged indifferently. "I have made it clear to
your daughters time and again: I am always willing to accept their services
as servants."
"Chandra!" Daksha roared in dire warning.
Chandra calmly ignored his shout and continued: "If they give me their
consent to serve and obey Rohini and me, I am ready to invite them in."
"You insolent reprobate! Do you not know that wives are queens, as well as
servants, to their husbands?" Daksha drew himself up to his full height.
"Hear me, you degenerate …"
"Oh, we are going to pronounce curses, are we?" Chandra's voice dripped
with sarcasm. He glared at Daksha defiantly. "I dare you to do your worst!"
Daksha's measured words rang ominously in the charged silence of the
palace: "Hear me, Chandra: your arrogant body will be ravaged by
tuberculosis. The horrendous disease will lay waste to your overweening
pride and lust. You will decline until you wane into nothingness. This is the
curse of Daksha prajapati !"
The cocksure Chandra retorted sarcastically: "I am indeed blessed!"
The fuming Daksha turned his angry eyes on Rohini. "As for you, Rohini,
your father's malediction will bring you immeasurable grief. You took
pleasure in tormenting your sisters. Now, you can derive pleasure from
tending your disease-ravaged husband!"
To Chandra's stunned disbelief, Daksha's curse took its terrible course
immediately. Chandra's handsome body, in the prime of youth and vigor,
weakened by the hour. His health wasted away, along with his arrogance
and pride.
Rohini labored in deep sorrow to mitigate her inconsolable husband's pain.
As the debilitating disease went on the rampage in Chandra's physique, its
effect impacted the workings of the cosmos. Chandra's rapidly diminishing
radiance was faithfully reflected by the decreasing light of the moon. As the
moon waned, the trees, creepers and herbs which derived nourishment from
its light languished and decayed. Medicinal herbs, particularly dependent on
the energizing pull of the moon, wilted – as a consequence, people fell prey
to fatal diseases. An imminent dearth of medicine and food threatened the
balance of the universe. The earth, lacking the cool benediction of
moonlight, heated up with the lingering warmth of the sun. As the moon's
radiance diminished, darkness reigned supreme at night.
The agitated devas milled about in confusion, seeking the reason for this
strange lunar phenomenon.
"Narayana!" The chant announced Narada's arrival in Devaloka. Indra
hurried to him with anxious questions.
"Let us go to Chandra: he will throw light on this catastrophe," suggested
the sage.
A contingent of devas, led by Indra, accompanied Narada to Chandra's
abode. To their shock, Chandra granted them audience, reclining weakly on
a couch! His former radiance was now but a flickering, intermittent glow.
Indra exclaimed in consternation: "Chandra! What is the meaning of this?
You, the king of medicinal herbs, reduced to such debilitating weakness?!
How did you contract this wasting disease?"
Chandra remained in uncomfortable silence, his eyes averted from his
visitors.
"Narayana!" Narada advised him. "Come, Chandra: it is always better to
confess one's sin and seek reparation. Hiding the root of a problem can only
be counterproductive to finding a remedy."
The shamefaced Chandra recounted the chain of events leading to Daksha
prajapati’s curse.
"In my arrogance, I was confident that I was immune to curses," he
confessed in abject misery.
"He dared my father to do his worst … and this is the sorry result!" Rohini
sighed in pained resignation.
Chandra turned beseechingly to Indra: "You must free me from this
disease," he said.
Indra observed: "Chandra, your falling ill is akin to the cure itself
contracting a disease. There is no medicine to combat this disorder." He
continued thoughtfully: "It is the curse which directs your malady. The only
solution is to annul the curse."
"Well said, Mahendra!" said Narada. ‘And that can be done only by Daksha
prajapati ."
"Yes, let us all accompany Chandra to Daksha's palace and plead his cause,"
suggested Indra.
On hearing Indra's impassioned appeal on Chandra's behalf, Daksha
prajapati paced the floor of his vast audience chamber, immersed in
thought. Finally, he came to stand before the anxious group of devas.
"Chandra has undeniably sinned. He repeatedly ignored my counsel and
warnings. You must admit that he deserved to be punished." He frowned
darkly at his offending son-in-law. Daksha turned to the king of the devas .
"However, Indra, as your grandfather, I do not have the heart to turn down
your request."
He made his decision and declared: "I will rescind my curse – but only on
one condition: Chandra must swear to accord my twenty-seven daughters
his impartial love and care. There must be no preferential treatment meted
out to Rohini, or any other one of them. Unfair discrimination in any form
will not be tolerated."
Indra turned to Chandra with his eyebrows raised in interrogation.
Without any hesitation, Chandra prostrated himself at Daksha's feet and
took a solemn oath to cherish his twenty-seven wives with impartial
affection.
Rohini now came forward with tear-filled eyes. "Father, I see the error of
my ways … I beg your forgiveness!" she sobbed.
Daksha nodded and turned to the expectant devas : "Indra, I am ambivalent
about rescinding my curse absolutely." He pondered a moment. "When
Chandra bathes at the auspicious site of the River Saraswati's confluence
with the ocean, his disease will ebb. This invigorating bath will ensure that
his radiance grows progressively brighter for fifteen consecutive days.
Subsequently, for the next fifteen days, his luminescence will gradually
decrease."
He paused and gave his son-in-law a meaningful glance. "From this time,
Chandra's bath in the River Saraswati will serve as a surety for his good
conduct."
"Grandfather," Indra asked uncertainly. "Does this mean that Chandra will
beam with increasing light for the first fifteen days of the month and then
lose his radiance over the next fifteen days?"
"That's right, Indra," Daksha nodded. "Every month, Chandra will be the
waxing moon for fifteen days and then wane for the following fifteen days.
On every new moon day, when his light has reached its nadir, he must
renew himself with his bath."
"Narayana!" said Narada in approval. "This is a solution acceptable to all!"
The satisfied devas , along with Narada, made their departure.
Chandra turned to Daksha prajapati with folded hands. "Father-in-law,
please forgive me!"
"You received my forgiveness when I withdrew my curse." Daksha advised
Chandra. "Maintain the cycle of waxing and waning by bathing at the
confluence of the River Saraswati with the ocean. Above all, love your
twenty-seven wives equally."
Chandra then begged Prasooti's pardon and obtained his mother-in- law's
blessings. Finally, his eyes filled with tears of repentance, he asked
forgiveness from Aswini and her sisters.
Taking his leave of them all, Chandra made his way to the holy point where
the River Saraswati met the ocean, and immersed himself in the cool
waters. To his blessed relief, the wasting disease was checked and Chandra
recovered his old radiance.
After spending a few days at Daksha's abode, a much-subdued and wiser
Chandra returned to his palace with his wives. From that day, Chandra
became known as 'the husband of many wives' – and one who lavished his
care impartially on them all.
Trees, plants and herbs flourished under the renewed light of the life-giving
moon. Living creatures thrived, blessed with nourishment and good health.
The earth's happiness was but a reflection of the radiant joy which filled
Chandra's abode.
‘And that is the story of Chandra's life!" Nirvikalpananda smiled at his
enraptured disciples.
"Master," said Vimalananda, with a twinkle in his eyes, "It appears that
Chandra is an aesthete!" He chuckled. "Just look at him: eloping with the
beautiful Taara before his marriage and favoring Rohini after wedlock!"
There was the slightest tinge of disdain in the student's voice.
"That is just the superficial aspect of Chandra's nature, Vimalanada,"
Nirvikalpananda cautioned. "We must subject the matter to analysis and
ascertain the underlying, deeper truth." He paused for emphasis.
"Remember, Chandra is one of the Navagrahas. As he is divine, we cannot
apply our contemporary rules and traditions as a yardstick to gauge his
virtue."
He addressed them seriously. "Divine entities always contribute to the well-
being of the three worlds. As a result of Chandra's love for Taara, the
cosmos was blessed with Budha's incarnation as a Navagraha. Again,
Brhaspati used his wife's adulterous behavior to categorically assert that a
woman will be absolved of the sin of adultery through menstruation.
Brhaspati not only proclaimed this ideology, but also applied it in his own
life."
He continued after a pause. "Coming to Chandra's partiality towards Rohini
– this is the root cause for the waxing and waning of the moon. This has
benefitted the environment. In short, the worlds enjoy prosperity because
Chandra, surrounded by his twenty-seven stars, graces the sky."
"Your logical explanation has erased our doubts, master," declared
Shivananda.
Nirvikalpananda smiled. "Very well, then. It is time for you to hear the life
story of Kuja, the third of the Navagrahas. You recall that Kuja took form
from a drop of perspiration from Paramashiva's brow and Bhudevi accepted
him as her son. Kuja grew up under her care …"
The master resumed his discourse.
The Life of Kuja
"M other, what does the name, Kuja, mean?"
Bhudevi, goddess of the earth, smiled and directed her fond gaze towards
her beloved son. Kuja was now in the prime of youth. He towered over her
like a tree which has been nurtured from a sapling with the utmost care and
devoted attention. Bhudevi's eyes filled with pride: her handsome Kuja was
no ordinary tree – he was a unique Saiva tree, imbued with Lord Shiva's
own essence!
"Mother!" Kuja waved his long, shapely fingers before her face. "Stop
staring at me and answer my question."
"I never tire of looking at you, Mangala," Bhudevi said lovingly.
‘Ahah!" Kuja exclaimed. ‘Another name: now, you have to tell me its
meaning too!" He laughed merrily.
"Very well, Angaaraka," his mother smiled.
"Yet another name!" Kuja's eyes twinkled in glee. "Yes, my son: and I shall
tell you its meaning too!"
Kuja came to sit close beside her, then stretched out his long limbs on the
ground and lay his head in her commodious lap. He looked up into her eyes
with his endearing smile.
"Mother, I don't know why it is, but there is nothing which gives me more
solace than resting in your lap."
"That is my good fortune, son," Bhudevi smiled serenely. "Innumerable
living beings, sorely exhausted by their trials and tribulations, seek balm for
their souls in the comfort in my lap. I am the blessed mother who rocks her
infants to restful slumber in her soft lap."
"You are the very personification of patience, mother," Kuja's voice was
filled with fond pride.
"One of my many names is Kshama – Patience," observed Bhudevi.
"Is it? And mine is Kuja …" He looked up at her in interrogation.
‘Alright, my son: listen." She paused to collect her thoughts. "I have myriad
names, including Bhumi, Achala, Ananta, Viswambhara, Sthira, Dhara,
Dharani, Dharitri, Dhaatri, Kshoni, Ila, Jagati, Ratnagarbha, Sarvamsaha
and Kshama – which I mentioned earlier. Again, Sarvamsaha connotes one
who patiently bears every burden. Another of my names is the single-
lettered 'Ku.' As you were born to me, Ku, Lord Shiva named you Kuja –
one who is born of Ku."
She smiled at him and continued. "Which means that you can derive names
for yourself from each one of my own numerous monikers! You are
Bhumija … Bhuputra … do you understand, son?"
"Oh, yes!" Kuja clapped his hands in glee. "Like mother, like son: there is
no dearth of our names!" He paused and asked: ‘And what about my second
name, Mangala?"
"That is derived from the fact that you were born on the day of Mangala ,"
explained Bhudevi. She elaborated further, ‘As for Angaaraka, it means
fire. The name denotes your fiery complexion, which glows with the shades
of raging flame."
"Well, mother, it's obvious that none of my names are mere empty titles,"
Kuja laughed.
"No, my son, each one of your names is replete with its own significance –
and all of them are uniquely you!" She gave him an impish smile and
tugged gently at a lock of thick hair. "Now, out with the truth! Don't tell me
you were genuinely unaware of the meanings of your names?!"
Kuja laughed into her eyes. "Can I ever fool you, mother?! Of course, I
know all the meanings!"
"Then why this unnecessary inquisition?"
"Because I always use any pretext to hear my mother's sweet voice," he
confessed charmingly.
"My mother's sweet voice," Bhudevi repeated softly to herself. She
pondered for a moment and then came to a decision. She looked intently
into Kuja's upturned face and said, "Kuja, I would like to tell you something
which I have kept to myself over all these years."
"Go ahead, mother," Kuja shrugged nonchalantly. "Your loving words are
always ambrosia to my ears."
Bhudevi nodded silently. "I want you to know … I want to tell you … I … I
am not your mother!" she ended in a rush.
"Mother!" Kuja gave a bewildered cry and struggled to come to his feet.
Bhudevi laid a strong, but gentle, restraining hand on his head and held it
firmly in her lap.
She bent to lock eyes with him and declared softly: "My precious son, I did
not beget you …" She paused to let him digest this startling disclosure.
"You were born from a sacred drop of perspiration adorning the brow of
none other than Lord Shiva himself." She explained slowly. ‘At that time,
Lord Shiva was immersed in ferocious tapas. As the droplet flowed down
his face, my gravitational force pulled it into my lap – where your head now
rests!" Her warm hands caressed his thick hair.
She continued: "At the instant the droplet came into contact with me, it
vanished and, in its stead, you appeared as a newborn infant. The holy drop
of perspiration from Lord Shiva's brow metamorphosed into you. The Lord,
awakening from his meditation, addressed me: "Bhudevi," he said, "this
infant has sought the shelter of your munificent lap. Raise him as your own
child." And that is how you became my very own child," Bhudevi smiled
down at her son.
A frown marred Kuja's brow. "Mother, why did Lord Shiva not raise me
himself?"
"My son, at that time, Lord Shiva was leading a life of solitude. This was in
the aftermath of the tragic events precipitated by Daksha prajapati’s yajna.
Lord Shiva's consort, Satidevi, burnt herself to ashes in a yogic fire."
Bhudevi continued her explanation. "Lord Shiva was well aware that a
mother's tender care is essential for an infant's welfare. Let me tell you
something, Kuja," she pointed out: "Lord Shiva is none other than my elder
brother. When her brother's baby is motherless, it is but natural for a sister
to step in to nourish the child with her own milk." Her voice radiated love.
"Do you know what divine bliss and happiness I derived from suckling
you?!" Her tears of joy fell as a benediction on Kuja's upturned face.
He gazed gravely into her eyes and declared passionately: "Mother,
whatever be the nuances of your relationship with Lord Shiva, or mine with
you, one thing is engraved in stone for all eternity – you are my mother!"
"That will never change, my son," Bhudevi's voice was equally
impassioned. "You are my son forever. Let it be known that Bhudevi will
bless anyone who earns your favour with the gift of ownership of land."
She continued on a thoughtful note. "Kuja, I think it is time for you to
consider the implication of having a true mother." She calmed his impatient
movement with a gesture. "Yes, my son – she is none other than the consort
of your father, Lord Shiva. Satidevi has taken the avatar of Parvatidevi, the
daughter of Himavanta, the Lord of the Himalayas. She is now reunited
with Lord Shiva in marriage." She smiled down at Kuja. "Like me, she too
has various names, including Durga and Chandika. You have not yet met
your real mother, my son -"
Kuja asked innocently, "Mother … my father's consort … is she beautiful,
like you?"
Bhudevi was effusive in her praise: "Believe me, she is the acme of beauty,
my son! She is Soundarya Lahari- waves of beauty incarnate! Her exquisite
form is unmatched in the three worlds! She is Shivaani and
Trijaganmohini." She said eagerly, "Kuja, you must seek her darshan and
obtain her blessings – she will be eager to bestow boons on you."
Kuja shrugged indifferently. "When I have you, I own the entire universe –
I do not require anyone else's blessings or boons!"
Bhudevi's face was suffused with love for her passionate son. She cajoled
him: "Now, Kuja, don't be unreasonable! The grace of Adiparaasakti, Lord
Shiva's consort, is a gift beyond compare. You are fortunate indeed to have
the Cosmic Mother as your own mother."
She continued on a more practical note: "You have completed your
education and have reached the appropriate age for marriage. Receiving
Goddess Parvati's benediction will be an auspicious beginning to our search
for a bride." She added the clinching argument: "Kuja, this will please me."
Kuja immediately agreed to her proposal and said, ‘Alright, mother. If it
pleases you, I shall pay a visit to Kailash tomorrow itself."
Bhudevi smiled at his alacrity but shook her head thoughtfully. "No, my
son. The best path to obtaining the blessings of gods and goddesses is to
make them condescend to appear before you – not go in search of them."
She advised him: "Do not expend energy in travelling to Kailash. Instead,
devote your entire being towards achieving mastery over your mind and
body. Exercise iron control over your senses. Focus single- mindedly on
your tapas and meditate on Adiparaasakti. Invoke her grace and draw her
irresistibly to you."
Kuja bowed his head in silent acknowledgement of his mother's words.
A tranquil clearing in the forest was the chosen scene of Kuja's penance in
propitiation of Goddess Parvati. Adhering to the guidelines suggested by
Bhudevi, Kuja immersed himself in the deepest meditation. He was lost to
the physical world. The wheel of time continued its relentless circle,
pushing the present into the past and pulling the future into its place. Kuja
remained oblivious to the passage of time, and the coming and going of the
seasons. The dry leaves of autumn which covered his immobile body gave
way to the stark landscape of winter. The tender green leaves and buds of
spring became the ripening fruits and blossoms which basked in the warmth
of the summer sun. Kuja sat still as a statue under the spreading branches of
a tree.
Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati strolled arm in arm on the banks of the
holy Manas Sarovar, the Lake of the Mind. A pair of swans trailed behind
them in the water. The birds, swimming closely in tandem, seemed but a
warm extension of the divine couple's intimacy.
"Swami …" Parvati addressed her Lord.
Lord Shiva's thick, beautiful eyebrows met in an interrogative arch under
his awesome Third Eye, as he turned to his consort.
"Your son, Kuja, is engaged in rigorous tapas – are you aware of this?"
"Is that so?" Lord Shiva's voice was studiedly innocent. "Whom does he
wish to propitiate?"
"Me …" said Parvati hesitantly.
Lord Shiva smiled impishly. "Then, you are the one who should be aware of
his penance, not I!"
"But, he is your son! I did not beget him!" Parvati said in bewilderment.
"Why does he choose to meditate upon me?"
"Look into my eyes and categorically tell me that my son is mine alone and
does not belong to you too!" Lord Shiva challenged her with a twinkle in
his eyes. ‘Are you ready to disown him?"
At Parvati's musical laugh, the swans in the sarovar drew near to share her
joy. "You know very well that your son is also my son: how can I refuse to
accept him?"
"Then, why all these questions?" Lord Shiva teased her.
"Because he emerged from you before I became your consort. This makes
him your son first and foremost. I wanted to know the boon you wish me to
bestow on him."
"Now, now, my love: a father presuming to advise a mother as to what is
best for their son – that is nothing less than humiliating motherhood! A
mother is a better judge than a father as to what best contributes to her son's
welfare." He smiled down at her. ‘After all, a mother is ever-ready to
shower her children with every gift of their asking – in addition to a million
others which they never thought to ask for!"
Parvati moved close to Lord Shiva and warmly embraced him with her
slender arms. "Swami , how beautifully you have described a mother's
heart!" Her voice was thick with emotion.
Lord Shiva chuckled. "I have no mother: perhaps that makes me better
equipped to portray a mother's heart!"
Parvati rewarded him with a sweet smile.
Lord Shiva looked into her sparkling eyes. "Tell me, Parvati: when are you
going to condescend to appear before our son?"
Parvati laughed mischievously. "That's a secret – a divine secret!"
Lord Shiva and Parvati made their way companionably towards their abode.
The swans left the waters of the Manas Saravor and followed close on the
heels of the divine couple. Lord Shiva turned back at the sound of their
softly padded footfalls – his mischievous gaze then fell on Parvati, walking
with infinite grace by his side.
"Parvati, why do you think those swans are following in our footsteps?" He
asked innocuously.
Parvati gave an elegant shrug and smiled. "Swami , I confess that the heart
of a swan is a closed book to me!"
"Well, I know why," said Lord Shiva.
"Shall I tell you?"
"Yes, yes," she said eagerly. "I long to know why!"
"They are intent on the swaying of your shapely hips, my dear – they wish
to study the secret of your beautiful gait!"
Bending to scoop some water from the lake in her cupped hands, in a quick,
playful gesture, Parvati splattered the ice-cold water over the Lord like a
cloudburst. Shiva's delighted laughter ran its merry way through the
sparkling ripples on the lake's surface.
Kuja started at the sharp impact of a falling fruit from the branch above
him.
A frisson of wonder reached its gentle fingers into his deep trance,
awakening his consciousness to renewed awareness of his surroundings. A
fragrance-laden zephyr caressed him tenderly. Far in the distance, he heard
his name softly enunciated by a voice which was sweet music to his ears.
His eyes widened in anticipation and a tremor ran through his body …
A streak of lightening flashed before his eyes … no … it was not lightening
. it was a figure of incredible beauty! It was none other than Goddess
Parvati – Shivaani! Trijaganmohini! Durga! Chandika! The sublime beauty
of the three worlds!
"Mother!" Kuja gave an involuntary cry of awe.
"That is the very word I came to hear from you!" Parvati smiled sweetly at
him. "What is your wish?"
"Mother…" that one magical word was all that Kuja could utter.
"Of course, I am your mother!" Parvati gave a gentle laugh. "What do you
want from me, Mangala?"
'Mangala'- the word struck a chord in Kuja's heart. A wish rose
spontaneously to his lips. "Divine Mother, I was born on the day of
Mangala. And this day – the auspicious day on which I have been blessed
with your darshan – is again the day of Mangala!" He paused to gaze into
the pools of compassion which were her eyes. "Mother, let the name
Mangala become a special bond between us. Grant me the honor of linking
my name with yours, so that our unique relationship resonates through the
corridors of infinity."
"So be it!" She paused. "Kuja, I am deeply moved by your refined intellect
and touching devotion. Yes, your name, Mangala, is also the day of your
birth, and the day on which you received my grace. In recognition of this,
and as an overt manifestation of our intimate connection, from this moment
on, I shall also be known as Mangalachandika."
"I am indeed blessed, Mother Mangalachandika." Kuja folded his hands in
reverence.
"What more do you want from me, son: ask and it shall be yours."
Kuja bowed his head and said, "Mother, grant me a boon of your own
choice."
Goddess Parvati's eyes melted in tenderness. "Kuja, your humility, and
absolute faith in me, warms my heart. You are the son who emerged from
Lord Parameswara's own perspiration. Just as your name is inextricably
linked with mine for all eternity, I now proclaim that wherever you choose
to be present, I will also be there with you. This is the boon I bestow on
you."
"Mother!" Kuja exclaimed in delight.
"Yes, my son. Wherever I grant darshan to my devotees as the fierce
goddess, Mangalachandika, you will also be worshipped along with me."
"Mother, I am indeed doubly blessed." Kuja paid obeisance to the goddess
with his folded hands touching his bowed forehead.
Parvati smiled magnanimously at him and said, "Mangala, here is another
boon for you: whoever worships you will receive my grace in full
measure!"
Kuja, immersed in devotion, prostrated himself at the holy feet of his
mother, Goddess Parvati. The fragrance which had engulfed his senses
slowly faded. He looked up to find himself alone once more.
Bhudevi's joy knew no bounds when she heard of the boons lavished on her
precious son. "Kuja, I am delighted at the turn of events. The spark of
devotion towards the Divine Mother, which has always been inherent in
you, has now spontaneously ignited to earn you her priceless grace!" She
paused to gain his attention. "The name bestowed on you at birth by Lord
Shiva holds my name – Ku. And now, your name is in conjunction with
your other mother: Lord Shiva's consort. Kuja, are you aware of the
greatness of this honour?"
Kuja shook his head in mute puzzlement.
"Both the mothers whose names are one with yours did not beget you
through the normal process of pregnancy. I, Bhumaata, did not give you life
– neither did Chandimaata. What is the significance of this?" She answered
her rhetorical question. "You have experienced the good fortune of taking
birth without undergoing the painful trauma of emerging from the womb.
Likewise, both Bhudevi and Chandikaadevi have been blessed with
motherhood without enduring pregnancy and the distress of childbirth. This
is the momentous significance of your birth, Kuja!"
"Mother, you have made me realize how lucky I am," Kuja smiled in new
awareness of his good fortune.
"Undoubtedly, you are fortunate, my son. And fortune will favour all those
who worship you!" Bhudevi continued: "Now, it is time for you to find a
suitable bride. Go and seek a wife who will serve you with love and
devotion. I wait to solemnize your marriage in the presence of Lord Shiva
and Goddess Parvati."
Kuja bowed his head in obedient acknowledgement and said, "Bless me,
mother."
"May your search be successful, my son!" Bhudevi placed her hand in
loving benediction on his head.
Kuja touched the feet of the earth goddess in respect and set out on his
quest.
Bhudevi's blessing fructified and Kuja found a beautiful maiden, Sakti, to
be his bride. Bhudevi, after obtaining Lord Shiva's consent, celebrated her
son's marriage in the divine presence of Lord Vishnu and Lakshmi, Lord
Shiva and Parvati, Brahma and Saraswati, and Sage Narada.
"Kuja, in accordance with the Trimurti’s command, Viswakarma has
constructed a beautiful abode for your use. Take Sakti, and commence your
married life there," Bhudevi advised her son.
"No, mother," Kuja was unequivocal in his refusal. "I will not leave you."
A tender smile suffused the earth goddess' face. "Son, you can no longer
dwell with me. Your incarnation, and its purpose, was decreed by Lord
Vishnu, the Supreme God. In order for the objective of your birth to be
fulfilled, it is essential that you occupy your designated place in the order of
things." Her firm tones gave place to softly affectionate assurance. "Kuja,
remember that I have no finite boundaries – wherever you are in the vast
universe, you will always be able to glimpse me."
"Yes, mother, I will carry you close to my heart wherever I am!"
He bent reverentially to touch her feet. Bhudevi raised him up and
embraced him warmly. Sakti looked on this touching scene with tear-
dimmed eyes.
Nirvikalpananda concluded his account of Kuja's life and serenely
examined the engrossed faces of his four sishyas.
"Master," Chidananda said in breathless wonder, "the life of each one of the
Navagrahas is chock-full of significant and wonderful events!"
"Yes, my son," the master smilingly acknowledged. "The life of Budha,
which you will hear next, is also replete with wonders and dramatic
developments."
"As I recall, Budha was being raised by his grandfather Sage Atri," said
Sadananda thoughtfully.
"Yes, Budha reached manhood in Atri and Anasuya's care. The sage
decided that the time was ripe for his grandson to live independently and
practice his own spiritual discipline of saadhana. Atri consulted his wife,
Anasuya …"
Nirvikalpananda resumed his enthralling discourse.
The Life of Budha
"A nasuya, come sit beside me." Sage Atri beckoned his wife near and
continued gravely, "Budha is no longer a child who requires our protection
and care. He has imbibed my instruction and become an excellent scholar.
He is now a young man – and well equipped to lead an independent life."
"Swami!" Anasuya exclaimed in dismay. "Does this mean that you are
sending him away from the ashram ?"
"You know that it is inevitable, my dear," said Atri, with a sympathetic look
at Anasuya's grief- stricken face.
"I love Budha more than I ever did my own son." Her eyes filled with hot
tears. "Now, to live without him …"
"Don't fret, my dear," Atri comforted his wife. "You have been blessed with
the good fortune of bearing the Trimurti as your sons. Lord Vishnu and
Paramashiva are yet to take form in your womb." Atri smiled as a ray of
hope dispelled the despair in Anasuya's eyes at this timely reminder of what
remained in store for her.
He continued gently, "Now, dry your eyes and bless our grandson before
sending him to Chandra."
Anasuya bowed in resignation.
"Grandfather, are you sending me away?" Budha demanded indignantly. "I
heard you tell grandmother so!"
Atri smiled fondly at the young man. "Yes, Budha. It is time you emerged
from the cocoon of our protection and took wing on your own. You must
learn to be independent. At present, you are in the position of accepting
help from others. Next, you must elevate yourself to the state of rendering
aid to those in need. It is up to you to earn a good reputation."
He paused. "Go to your father, Chandra, and obtain his permission to
establish yourself independently."
"Your wish is my command, grandfather," Budha replied obediently.
"It is not a command, my dear boy," Atri gently corrected his grandson. "It
is our fond wish and aspiration for you. We are confident that you will
mature into a young man who lives up to the ideals of virtue. You will
garner respect and fame for us through your peerless life and
achievements." Atri continued his wise counsel. "Take a meritorious
woman as your wife and ensure that our lineage flourishes. I lay upon you
the responsibility of propagating the line of Chandravamsa: the gothra of
Aatreya."
There was a rising excitement in Budha's wide eyes. At this, Atri stopped –
his face turned somber and his voice was grave, as he inserted his note of
stern warning. "Budha, you are now a young man. It is time you were aware
of your father's major defect: Chandra reaped much trouble as a result of his
weakness for women. Do not let your father be your inspiration in matters
of the heart. Accept the woman you love as your wife. Make her happy and
find your own happiness in her."
"Yes, grandfather," Budha said.
"Be ready to begin the journey of your new life tomorrow. Go first to
Chandra's palace and then set out in search of your destiny with your
father's approval."
Atri fondly caressed his grandson's obediently bowed head.
Budha touched his father's feet in respect.
"My son!" Chandra's face was wreathed in an affectionate smile. "How you
have grown since I last saw you!" He embraced his son warmly and looked
intently at him. It was like seeing his own younger self reflected in a mirror!
Chandra's eyes glowed with pride at the sight of the handsome youth. His
son had inherited all his beauty!
‘If only Brhaspati could see Budha now …" he thought. 'He would not have
the least doubt as to the boy's paternity!'
‘Aswini! Bharani! Krthika! Rohini!" He called out excitedly to his wives.
"Where are you? My son is here!"
Chandra's wives came running in answer to his enthusiastic summons.
"Look at my handsome son!" Chandra proudly exhibited his child.
Aswini and her younger sisters crowded round Budha in affectionate
admiration.
Budha prostrated himself before the group and said: "I seek the blessing of
my mothers."
"May you always be happy, son!" Aswini's benediction was echoed by her
sisters in a joyous chorus.
"We are indeed fortunate to be the mothers of such a handsome son,"
Aswini added with an affectionate smile.
"Mother, my own good fortune is twenty-seven times yours!" Budha's fond
glance encompassed them all.
Chandra's wives laughed in appreciation of the boy's wit and facility with
words. The father beamed with pride.
"Swami," said Rohini eagerly, "let us make arrangements for Budha's
permanent stay with us."
"Of course," Chandra agreed. "My son has come home to stay." He turned
questioningly to Budha. "What do you say, son?"
Budha shook his head regretfully. "Father, my grandfather sent me here
with the express instruction to obtain your permission to begin an
independent life."
"An independent life?" Rohini was bewildered at this.
Chandra explained: "Yes, Rohini – when a boy attains maturity, he is
granted personal freedom, along with the responsibility of becoming self-
sufficient. He takes on the mantle of independence and strives to achieve
success without leaning on his parents for support."
"Does this mean that you are going to send our son away?" Daksha's
daughters exclaimed in one voice.
Chandra smiled at their aghast faces. "Budha will stay here for a couple of
days, basking in his mothers' loving care." He paused. ‘After which he must
go to the forest, where accommodation awaits him - in accordance with
Brahma's decree."
After enjoying the attention lavished on him by Chandra and his wives,
Budha prepared to set out for the forest.
Chandra advised him: "Take care, my son. Remain faithful to your
grandfather's teaching." He paused to smile fondly at him. "And do not
forget to visit us on every full moon day: your mothers and I eagerly
anticipate your arrival."
Budha looked intently into father's affectionate eyes. "Father …" he
hesitated.
"What is it, my son?" Chandra urged him on.
"I … I … there is one thing I want from you," Budha's eyes pleaded silently
with his father. "Will you grant me a boon?"
Chandra's own eyes melted in affection. He said, "Tell me what you want,
Budha – it will be yours!"
"Father, grant me your permission to visit my mother once."
Budha's request fell on his listener's ears like a bolt from the blue! Chandra
stood motionless as a statue, while Daksha's daughter froze into a tableau of
startled surprise. Budha's words echoed in the women's ears . they also
reverberated in Chandra's heart.
"Budha …" said the stunned Chandra, slowly recovering from the shock of
his son's unexpected request.
"Father, I long to behold my mother with my own eyes … will you grant me
this boon?" Budha's eyes shone with rising hope.
A radiant smile banished the clouds of doubt on Chandra's face. He hugged
his son close, stroking his strong back with fond hands. "Go, my son," there
was an underlying tremor in Chandra's voice. "Go and see your mother –
with my whole-hearted blessings!"
Budha gently extricated himself from his father's clasp and gazed with deep
gratitude into Chandra's eyes. "Father, truly I am blessed!" he said.
Daksha's daughters bid a tearful farewell to Budha as he wordlessly folded
his hands in respect towards them. Their misty eyes followed him with their
unspoken benediction.
Brhaspati listened attentively, as his class of disciples recited their lessons
in droning unison. A sudden movement in the distance caught his attention
and he looked up – it was a young man, silently making his way towards
the hermitage on the grass-covered footpath. Instantaneously, a vivid sense
of déjà vu possessed the deva-guru: time stood still and a startled gasp
escaped his lips.
'Chandra!' his mind screamed the name. His heart raced and anxiety
clouded his eyes. ‘Yes, it is Chandra,' concluded Brhaspati, ‘there can be no
doubt about it! How dare that fraudster show his face here again? Is he
hoping to beguile Taara away once more?'
Brhaspati's indignant thoughts made his blood boil and fury coursed
through his veins. His disciples fell into abrupt silence as their master's face
darkened like storm clouds. Brhaspati glared in silent condemnation at the
intruder. His body shook with suppressed rage as the young man sedately
approached him.
The youth touched his feet in a gesture of respect and straightened up to
introduce himself: "I salute you, master! I am Budha, grandson of Atri and
son of Chandra."
Brhaspati's eyes widened in amazement and the wild beating of his heart
slowly subsided.
Atri's grandson … Chandra's son …' the words fell on his ears with blessed
relief, pouring oil on the troubled waters of his anger.
"Budha," the word involuntarily rose to his lips.
"Yes, master!" Budha bowed obediently. "Honour me with the position of
your disciple and bless me!"
Brihaspati's hand rose in instinctive benediction and he said, "Long may
you live!" Somewhere in the depths of his memory, that other blessing he
had pronounced on Chandra stirred and rose to the surface: ‘May you be
happy!' Brhaspati shook his head to clear his roiling thoughts.
"Master," Budha continued humbly, "I am here to make a request." He
hesitated. "If you will permit me … I wish …" He came to a fumbling halt.
Brhaspati heaved a deep, shuddering sigh of regret. This was the child his
wife had carried in her womb – the baby who was born in this very house.
This was the son who belonged to his wife, but not to him. With a mighty
effort of the will, Brhaspati came back to the present and looked intently at
the youth standing in patient supplication before him. His perceptive gaze
took in the eyes, wise beyond their years, and the boy's humble stance.
"My dear boy, speak your mind," Brhaspati said kindly.
"I beg your leave to see my mother, Taaradevi."
Brhaspati was reduced to speechless amazement. ‘What an incredible
request!' he thought. ‘Here was a son, humbly seeking his permission to
visit his own mother!' A wave of intense emotion convulsed the deva-
guru’s body.
On his part, Budha was astounded at the master's continued silence. This
was Brhaspati – acclaimed preceptor of the gods and reputed powerhouse of
wisdom. This was Vaachaspati – orator par excellence: in fact, a veritable
wizard at debate! And yet, here he was, apparently at a loss for words!
Budha ventured again: "Master, all I ask is a single glance of my mother …
I will leave immediately after that one glimpse." His voice choked with
emotion as he pleaded: "I . I yearn to see my mother."
Budha's impassioned appeal broke down the walls of Brhaspati's defenses
and melted his heart. The deva-guru looked compassionately at the boy's
tear-streaked, hopeful face. A million masterful sentences rose to his lips
but he remained silent: the skilled orator was well aware that the moment
needed no words. Brhaspati smiled benignly at Budha and inclined his
head, gesturing towards the hermitage.
Buhda's face bloomed with joy. Folding his hands in instinctive reverence
and gratitude, he hurried in the direction indicated.
Brhaspati turned sternly to his curious disciples, who quickly resumed their
recitation of the days' lessons.
Budha stood hesitantly on the threshold of the ashram , his anxious eyes
eagerly searching its every nook and corner. The room was empty. He took
a small step forward, only to come to an abrupt halt – the door set in the
opposite wall opened softly and a woman stood outlined by its frame, a
basket of flowers in her arm. It was Taara! She froze in wide-eyed wonder
at the sight of the unexpected visitor.
‘Is it Chandra?' Taara's thoughts were a frantic, chaotic buzz in her head.
‘Has Chandra returned after all these years?' She remained motionless.
Then, slowly, the mists of the past cleared and she realized: ‘No, it is not
Chandra! It is Chandra's replica – the living symbol of his love for me! It is
the child I carried in my womb. It is my precious baby boy: Budha!'
A thrill of pure delight coursed through Taara's body as Budha instinctively
drew near. Some inherent, invisible bond pulled him to her like an
irresistible magnet. An impassioned cry of need rose from the unknown
depths of his being and fell on her receptive ear.
"Mother!"
Taara thrilled to the sound of that sweet word. She had conceived and
carried him in her womb for nine months, endured the pain and fulfillment
of delivery – and it was only now, after the passage of all these years, that
the cherished word ‘Mother,' fell on her rapturous ears for the first time!
The hard block of dark ice, concealed in the depths of Taara's being since
her baby was taken from her, melted at the sound of his affectionate call – it
dissolved into a rush of warm, renewing love which coursed through her
parched body. She trembled in ecstasy at this long dreamed- of reunion. Her
eyes filled with tears of happiness and her breasts swelled with the
nourishing milk of motherhood.
"Son!" She walked to meet him halfway, her eyes never leaving his face.
Taara and Budha fell into each other's outstretched arms and remained
clasped in a close embrace. Time stood still – the intervening years of
separation fell away as if they had never been! Budha was bathed in his
mother's tears of joy, as she covered his beloved face with countless kisses
and fond caresses.
"Mother …" It seemed as though he would never tire of enunciating the
sweet word.
Taara held her son away from her and examined him adoringly from head to
toe. She fiercely brushed away the tears which threatened to form a
divisive, opaque curtain between them. "Son, I carried you in my womb for
nine months … I cradled you in these arms for ten days." Taara held out her
arms in a poignant gesture of loss. "When you were a ten-day old infant,
suckling at my breast with your perfectly-formed, tiny lips . these same
arms gave you away." Her broken sentences conveyed the desolation of her
aching heart.
"Mother …" Budha own eyes dimmed with unshed tears.
"Yes, my son. I gave you away in a flood of tears and that flood continued
unabated for years." She paused and gazed at him with eyes brimming with
love. "Budha, I was sure that I had lost you forever. I was tormented by the
thought that there was absolutely no possibility of our ever meeting: I was
unaware of your identity, and you were ignorant of my whereabouts." A
radiant smile lit up her face. "But … but, now … you have come to me!"
She reached up to tenderly plant a kiss on his forehead. "I have heard you
say the word ‘mother' – with that one magical word, you have transformed
all my past misfortune into the greatest luck!"
"Mother, all these years I have dreamt of meeting you and basking in your
affection and tears of joy. And now that dream has come true." He gazed
adoringly into her eyes. "I am here to receive your priceless blessing."
"My blessings are always with you, my son." Taara stroked his cheeks with
her palms, as if to reassure herself that this was not a dream.
"I am on my way to establish my own household." Budha explained his
plans to her.
"Taara!"
Mother and son turned towards the door at the sudden interruption. It was
Brhaspati.
"Swami!" Taara hurriedly wiped her tear-streaked face with the edge of her
saree.
Brhaspati's voice was gentle. "Let Budha stay to savor the food prepared by
his mother's loving hands."
"Swami!" Taara exclaimed in happy surprise, her eyes conveying their
gratitude to her husband.
"After all, you once carried your son in your sated womb: now it is time for
you to sate his hungry stomach!" Brhaspati's eyes twinkled as he left them
together.
Taara gazed lovingly at her son, her heart too full for words.
Budha picked up the basket which had fallen from his mother's hand and
gathered the flowers which lay scattered on the floor.
Budha made his way to the forest, as decreed by his father, his mind
continuously replaying the joyous scenes of his reunion with his mother at
Brhaspati's ashram . His ears thrilled to the endearments she has showered
on him. At last, he had experienced a mother's love at first hand.
Yes, his grandparents, his father and his twenty-seven wives had, each in
their own way, lavished their care and affection on him: but, there was
something in a mother's love which set it apart from every other emotion in
the world.
Budha smiled to himself as he pondered on this subtle difference. The
unstinting affection bestowed on him by the others was the labored,
deliberate breeze sent his way by the vigorous workings of a palm-leaf fan.
On the other hand, his mother's love was a spontaneous, fragrance-laden
zephyr, which washed over him as naturally as the cool breeze on a balmy
spring day.
Budha recognized that Brhaspati, in all the magnanimous warmth of his
welcome, had not made any reference to his father. Likewise, Taara had not
mentioned Chandra, or enquired about his well-being.
‘Well,' thought Budha, ‘it looks like mother has put the past firmly behind
her.'
Taara had stood speechless at the time of her second parting from her son.
But her beautiful eyes had said it all – they had brimmed with unconditional
love and devotion. As he bent to touch her feet, her tears fell on his head
like an auspicious shower of sacred rice grains. The tender kiss she planted
on his brow whispered a million silent blessings into his ear.
On his part, Brhaspati had placed his right palm in benediction on Budha's
head and said: "Dear Budha, your dream of meeting your mother has come
true." He paused. "Now, go your way in peace and safety. I see in you the
seeds of potential greatness. And, one more thing …" He smiled at the boy.
"You do not need my permission to see your mother – you are welcome to
visit the ashram whenever you wish."
Budha smiled in remembered pleasure at the graciousness of his send-off.
The deva-guru’s kindness lingered with a warm glow in his heart.
A sharp turn in the footpath brought Budha to a small lake. He ceased his
reminiscing as he became increasingly aware of the beauty of his
surroundings. Every breath of the fresh, unspoiled air was an invigorating
tonic to his mind and body. A gentle breeze rippled the crystalline waters of
the pond and caressed the beautiful lotuses which floated serenely on the
surface.
‘Wouldn't it be a treat if the hermitage built for me by Viswakarma was
located in the environs of this serene pond?!' Budha thought.
He surrendered to the irresistible temptation of the cool water and waded
into the pond to slake his thirst. Standing knee-deep in the water, he bent to
scoop it up with his cupped hands. Suddenly, he froze in surprise – the
inverted image of a man in yellow silk attire, holding a lute in his hands,
shimmered amidst the lotus stems. Budha slowly straightened up and
looked round him.
"Narayana! Narayana!" It was Sage Narada, standing on the shore of the
lake.
"My pranam to you, Sage Narada," said Budha, folding his hands in
reverent greeting. He continued politely: "This unexpected encounter with
you is a piece of good fortune."
"You are fortunate indeed, son of Taara!" exclaimed Narada. "Lord Brahma
himself has entrusted me with the task of escorting you to your hermitage
and explaining the duties assigned to you."
"Lord Brahma?!" exclaimed the surprised Budha.
"Narayana! You shouldn't be surprised at Brahma's personal interest in you,
son of Chandra!" Narada smiled at him."Think – who is sage Atri, your
grandfather? Brahma's maanasaputra! And your father, Chandra? A part of
Brahma's essence!" The sage continued: "My father, Brahma, does not
distinguish between his own son and his grandson, Chandra, who is his
incarnation."
Budha raised his hands in salutation towards the heavens and said, "I am
indeed blessed."
"Coming to the point," continued Narada, "the hermitage earmarked for
your use is in the vicinity of this lake. And your present duties are light
indeed – follow your daily ritual of ablutions, prayers and meditation; sate
your hunger with the readily available bounty of edible roots and sweet
fruits; spend your leisure absorbing the beauty of your sylvan
surroundings."
Narada set out towards the hermitage with Budha at his heels.
Budha settled down to the comfortable routine of his days at the hermitage:
the morning ablution, the prescribed prayers, the mind- cleansing
meditation and simple, satisfying meals. The ashram teemed with life: the
warbling of birds thrilled his ears from dawn to dusk; peacocks danced on
the dew-drenched grass; rabbits sported fearlessly within reach and the
gentle deer trustingly sought his companionship.
But Budha's heart often ached with an unfathomable emptiness. There was
a void in his life: an expectant waiting filled his restless soul.
One evening, Budha went on his usual ramble in the forest. Suddenly, the
familiar, serene calm of dusk was rudely shattered by the frenzied barking
of hounds, the thrashing of animals through the undergrowth, the thunder of
horses' hooves and the excited shouts of hunters.
Budha stopped to listen, recalling Sage Narada's words on his first day at
the hermitage. "Budha, this forest adjoins Vaivasvatha's kingdom. Do you
know who he is?" Narada went on to explain. "Vaivasvatha is the eldest son
of Surya and Samjna. His name is derived from Vivasvantha – one of
Surya's many names." He paused. "Vaivasvatha married Sraddha and, with
Surya's approval, is now reigning over the realm bordering this forest."
Narada twinkled at Budha. "It is always good to know one's neighbours!"
Budha smiled at Narada's remembered words. He had no desire to make his
neighbour's acquaintance. All he wanted was for Vaivasvatha's hunters to
refrain from killing the trusting animals who lived in his vicinity, and to
leave the tranquil ambience of his hermitage undisturbed.
He turned away deliberately from the raucous sounds of the hunting party
and made his way back to his hermitage.
A few days later, Budha emerged from his hermitage at dusk. A couple of
rabbits rushed to sport with him, while a dappled fawn nuzzled his legs.
Budha chuckled and bent to caress the animals. Gently pushing aside the
peacocks which were happily entangled with his feet, threatening to trip
him up, Budha set out on his customary evening stroll in the forest.
He stopped at his favourite spot on the shore of the crystalline pond,
admiring the exquisite beauty of the lotus blossoms which seemed to turn
into gold in the reflected light of the setting sun. The drowsy murmur of
sleepy birds was a soothing balm to his senses. He turned to make his way
back to the ashram. He froze as the sound of hunters assaulted his ears: this
time, the loud shouts and excited barks came from the direction of his own
dwelling!
‘I must divert them from the hermitage,' Budha thought. He hurried in the
direction of the hunting party.
Even as Budha rushed towards the hunters, an incredible chain of events
unfolded.
Prince Sudyumna, son of King Vaivasvatha, accompanied by a large
hunting party, gave chase to an elusive antelope. The prince, an avid hunter,
was determined to run down the animal which had narrowly escaped his
last arrow. The panting animal ran for its life, with Sudyumna's sturdy steed
in hot pursuit. The prince, crouched low on his saddle, furiously urged his
mount on, leaving most of his soldiers far behind. Only a few hardened
riders managed to keep pace with the prince's blistering speed.
The hunted animal streaked through the woods. The hunters' steeds foamed
at the mouth at the break-neck pace imposed on them by their riders.
Abruptly, the dense trees and thickets gave way to a clearing. Prince
Sudyumna drew up short at the beautiful garden which suddenly lay before
him. There was no sign of his elusive quarry. Thinking that the antelope had
probably sought cover in some thicket in the garden, the prince, followed
by his remaining escort, approached the flower-lined pathway.
At the very instant at which the hunting party crossed the garden's
boundary, a bizarre transformation took place: in the place of the masculine
company which had crossed the border, there now stood a group of women!
The men's hunting attire and weapons vanished – in their stead, delicate
sarees were draped round the feminine figures. Even the steeds were not
spared: the majestic hunting stallions were now mares!
Prince Sudyumna and his escort jumped down from their mounts and stared
at each other in uncomprehending terror. Their minds could not digest the
dreadful evidence of their eyes. As they stood rooted to the spot by the
horror of their predicament, the spooked mares whinnied in terror and
bolted from the garden. The prince's erstwhile soldiers instinctively ran in
pursuit of the fleeing horses and were soon lost to view in the dense forest.
Prince Sudyumna slowly awakened from his frozen disbelief. He ran his
fingers over his body and recoiled at its distinctively feminine
characteristics. In the distance, he heard the neighing of the mares and the
contours shouts of frantic female voices. Gripped by a surge of panic, he
called out to his soldiers. The sound of his voice compounded his horror:
his masculine tone was now the dulcet treble of a woman!
Completely at a loss as to the cause of this incredible phenomenon,
Sudyumna walked in a trance towards a small lake which mirrored the
cerulean sky in its clear waters. His former majestic, decisive stride was
now the graceful, swaying gait of a maiden. The prince stopped on the
shore and gazed into the water. A beautiful young woman looked back at
him from the surface: his heart raced at the realization that this portrait of
feminine charm was his own reflection.
Sudyumna thoughtfully removed his upper garment and gazed intently at
the image in the water: his flat, iron-hard chest had given way to breasts
which shimmered like two lotus buds on the rippling surface of the lake. He
continued to stare at his reflection, noting every detail of the change - even
the masculine ornaments he had carelessly put on that morning were now
pieces of exquisite feminine jewelry. His transformation into a woman was
complete in every sense of the word!
In instinctive modesty, Sudyumna covered his upper body and gazed
unblinkingly at the beautiful image in the water. A name rose unbidden to
his lips – ‘Ila!'
Ila wandered the narrow forest paths in aimless bewilderment. A fog of
confusion clouded her mind. What were the choices before her? If she
returned to Vaivasvatha's kingdom, not a soul, including her own father and
mother, would recognize her as Prince Sudyumna. More to the point, her
sanity would be called into question – who would believe her incredible
tale? She would undoubtedly be labelled a mad woman! And what would
be her position as a lone woman, bereft of male protection? No, she could
not go back to her father's kingdom: that path was irrevocably barred to her.
But, what other choice did she have? She could not remain alone in the
forest much longer. She thrilled with fear at every rustle in the undergrowth.
She, the intrepid hunter, who had unflinchingly confronted lions as a man,
was now startled when a gentle deer broke through the undergrowth before
her!
Her desolate thoughts were interrupted by the fast-approaching strains of
sweet music. Ila waited with bated breath on the lonely forest track. A man
came into view round the bend, tranquilly playing his lute: it was Sage
Narada. At the unexpected sight that met his eyes, Narada's music broke off
in the middle of a note.
"Narayana!" the sage exclaimed in amazement. "Who are you?" His words
conveyed urgent warning. "It is not safe for a beautiful woman like you to
wander about unaccompanied in the forest!"
Ila looked up at Narada with shy, anxious eyes, but remained speechless.
"Come, speak up!" the sage urged her gently. "I hope you are not dumb …
can you speak? Who are you?"
"My name … my name is Ila," she managed to say.
"Ila … a very apt name for a beautiful woman!" Narada complimented her
with a reassuring smile. "Now, tell me who you are and what you are doing
here." He repeated his warning: "It is unsafe for you to loiter in these dark
woods: unknown dangers lurk everywhere."
Ila was speechless in wonder – this was Sage Narada, who had visited her
father's palace several times and interacted with her as Prince Sudyumna.
Yet, here he was, patently unable to recognize her in this female form.
‘If the divine sage himself is oblivious to my past identity, it is clear that no
one will accept me as the former prince,' Ila thought disconsolately. Then, a
ray of hope broke through her despair: surely the wise sage would find a
solution to her predicament!
"My name is not Ila …" she began hesitantly.
"Narayana!" exclaimed the puzzled sage. "Were you by any chance in a
trance when you pronounced that name a moment ago?" He shook his head
wryly. "Very well, we will let that pass: now, tell me your real name."
Narada smiled encouragingly at her.
"I … I … I am not a woman …"
"Narayana!" Narada threw up his arms in surrender. "I give up!" He looked
her searchingly up and down and continued: "This Narada might be a
confirmed bachelor, but I swear he can recognize a woman when he sees
one!"
"Sage Narada," Ila asked, ‘Are you acquainted with Sudyumna, King
Vaivasvatha's son?"
"Yes, of course." Narada's eyes were curious. "Why? Did he trifle with you
in the name of love?"
"No: remember I told you that I am not a woman. I was transformed into
one only a few minutes before your arrival." Ila confided the details of her
bizarre, sudden metamorphosis to the astonished sage. "I was Sudyumna
before my transformation -"
"Narayana!" the sage interrupted her in wonder. "Is this really you,
Sudyumna?"
"Yes," Ila murmured in forlorn tones. "When I found myself in feminine
form, I instinctively assumed the name, Ila."
"Narayana! Then, Sudyumna … Now, Ila … then, male … now, female!"
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘A young man has metamorphosed into a
young maiden!"
"Maharshi, tell me – why has this misfortune befallen me?" Ila eyes filled
with tears of sorrow.
"Why? Hmm …" Narada pondered a moment. "Narayana!" his face lit up in
sudden comprehension. "Did you, by any chance, enter the Kumaravanam?"
he asked Ila urgently.
"The Kumaravanam?" Ila shook her head in puzzlement. "I don't know
where that is …" She paused. "But, I did enter a garden." Ila elaborated on
the chain of events which led to her transformation.
"Narayana!" said Narada resignedly. "I must tell you that you are fated to
spend the rest of your life on this earth as Ila. This is not just your fate: it is
the ordained fate of all living beings who enter the garden." He proclaimed
gravely. "Every being which enters the garden, whether man or animal,
must live and die as a female!"
The sage proceeded to explain the provenance of the garden:
"Kumaravanam is Lord Parameswara and Goddess Parvati's private garden.
The goddess particularly delighted in the delicious seclusion afforded by
her exclusive bower. Once, the divine couple was enjoying the garden's
beauty, reveling in their moments of intimacy. Oblivious to the goddess's
sensibilities, some renowned sages entered the garden seeking their darshan
. Parvati's embarrassment turned into rage at this boorish invasion of her
privacy. She pronounced a curse on the hapless rishis : any male being who
dared intrude into her beloved Kumaravanam would be instantaneously
transformed into a female. Lord Shiva seconded his consort and their
implacable curse has endured over the ages." Narada looked gravely at Ila.
"Sage Narada!" Ila was aghast at the fact that she had inadvertently
blundered into the Kumaravanam. "Is there no hope of redemption from
Aadisakti's curse?" The light of hope faded from her eyes.
"The immutable will of the mighty Chandika is engraved in stone: there can
be no turning back! One can only humbly accept Aadisakti's mercy or
malediction." Narada continued, "You will remain a woman in the eyes of
the world – and you will be treated as one!" He echoed her own thoughts:
"Beautiful women cannot live in security without male protection. I advise
you to stay away from the capital."
"I have no one to turn to!" Ila's voice reflected her despair. "What awaits me
in the future?" She turned her pleading eyes to the sage. "Be my guide."
Narada closed his eyes for a minute. He then predicted: "Travel eastwards
through the forest. Fortune will favor you with dependable male company.
The mists of uncertainty will clear and your future will take firm shape."
"You want me to follow this path?" Ila gestured uncertainly towards the
east.
"Yes, this is your ordained path right now. Begin your journey confidently."
Narada's eyes were compassionate. "May fortune smile on you!"
Ila set out in the direction suggested by Narada. The depth of her
transformation became increasingly clear to her by the minute: the change
was not just a matter of external appearance, but a complete recasting of her
entire psyche! Frissons of alarm ran through her body at the least rustle of a
bush, or the snap of a branch. Her old passion for the hunt had vanished
without a trace: now, the deer and rabbits which crossed her path evoked a
deep tenderness in her. She fondled them with gentle fingers.
'What a world of difference there is between the sensibilities of a man and a
woman!' she wondered.
The sound of approaching footfalls made her freeze in terror. A young man
stood before her – immobilized in his turn by the unexpected sight of a lone
woman on the forest track.
Her heart raced with a strange excitement as her eyes took in every detail of
the youth. He towered among the bushes like a tree in its prime. He was the
embodiment of masculine beauty. His muscular body glowed with the vigor
of physical well-being. Like iron filings to a magnet, she was irresistibly
drawn to his large eyes. The sensuous lips were parted in the beginnings of
a smile. Her admiring eyes took in the broad chest … his dazzling
complexion … she stopped, suddenly distracted by the insistent flapping of
her upper garment in the wind.
She looked down – the wayward garment had fallen away to expose her
body. An intense flush of embarrassment spread over her face: Ila quickly
shielded her breast with her crossed left hand and groped for the fluttering
edge of her saree with her right. In acute discomfort, she bowed her head in
order to avoid his penetrating gaze.
A vague awareness came to life in her, like a water lily slowly blooming
under the silver light of the moon – she had been absorbed in the young
stranger to the complete exclusion of all else: she had even failed to notice
her own uncovered body. He had cast a spell on her.
She asked herself: Was he that handsome? The answer emerged from the
comely image etched on her downcast eyes – but a truer response came
from her wildly beating heart, which had gathered him into its warm
embrace.
Framed against the sylvan beauty of the woods, the young woman who
stood before him was the epitome of loveliness. Her face was a lotus in full
bloom. Her body glowed like a lissome, golden creeper against the rich
forest green of the thickets. The wide eyes were lamps which shone with a
radiance which equaled the light of the setting sun. He found himself unable
to avert his eyes from her body, even as she grappled with her upper
garment, finally draping it into place with trembling hands. The beauty the
saree now concealed remained fresh in his mind's eye.
Who was this exquisite beauty? From where had she suddenly descended,
to appear on this familiar forest track? The young man vainly attempted to
voice his questions, but remained dumbstruck. In a trance, he moved to one
edge of the narrow path to give her passage and slowly walked forward.
The woman also moved towards him – they crossed each other with
downcast eyes and continued a few paces in opposite directions.
Then, as if impelled by some unknown signal, both of them paused and
turned back simultaneously. They stood facing each other once more. Their
eyes locked in silent yearning. Their lips quivered with unasked questions.
The man broke the silence.
"My name … is … Budha," he continued to gaze deep into her eyes. "You
are …?"
"My name is . Ila," she replied.
"I am the son of Chandra and Taaradevi." His voice gathered strength. "I
live in a hermitage nearby. What about you?"
"I … I … I do not have any family." Instinctively, Ila concealed the history
of her strange circumstances. A cautious voice whispered in her ears: Don't
risk scaring him away with the incredible truth . he may abandon you .
"The sun will set in a few minutes. The forest is fraught with danger." There
was eager invitation in his words. "Why don't you rest tonight at my
hermitage?"
"Yes," Ila agreed impulsively.
Budha set out in the direction of his ashram. Chased by the beauty of her
haunting eyes, all thoughts of the huntsmen vanished from his mind.
At the hermitage, the deer and rabbits accorded Ila their own welcome, with
warm nuzzles and rubs against legs, while Budha lavished his hospitality on
his unexpected guest.
At dawn, the lotus buds on the surface of the water bloomed, as if the pond
was opening its beautiful eyes to the morning sun. Ila, damp from her
earlier swim, sat on the bank of the pond, weaving miniature garlands with
the tiny flowers which carpeted the shore. It seemed that her transformation
had bestowed on her all the inherent flair of a natural- born woman. She
looked up occasionally to feast her eyes on Budha, who had just entered the
pond for his own morning ablution.
Budha soon came to sit beside her. He held out a deep red lotus in offering
to her, gazing intently at her face in mute appeal.
Ila smiled and said softly, "There is an unspoken message stirring in the
depths of your eyes."
"The eyes are windows to the soul, Ila." His searching eyes never left her
face. "It is not only my eyes – my lips also yearn to tell you something."
"So, let them!" Ila broke into teasing laughter.
"Ila, I came here to the hermitage to pursue an independent life. But my
initial joy of liberty was short-lived. A deep void soon engulfed my soul. I
was possessed by an increasingly urgent sense of expectancy – I seemed to
be waiting for the arrival of something, or someone. Each day dawned in
eager anticipation, only to end in disillusionment. The emptiness grew, until
it threatened to consume my very being. And now …" Budha paused.
"And now?" Ila gently urged him on.
"That emptiness has miraculously vanished without a trace!" Budha smiled.
"Has it!?" she exclaimed.
"Do you know the exact moment at which the void loosened its grasp on
my soul?" His impassioned voice supplied the answer: "At the very moment
at which your beauty lit up my eyes!"
Ila looked down bashfully as Budha continued. "From the first instant of
our encounter, a strange excitement coursed through my blood. In all these
years, no other woman has ever evoked such a reaction from me."
Ila raised her head in happy recognition. "But,that is exactly how I felt
when I first set eyes on you!" She blushed and went on: "I have never …
stared at any man like that! No other man has attracted me so powerfully!"
"Really?!" Budha exclaimed in surprised exhilaration.
"I swear on this lotus which you gifted me – it is true," Ila smiled gently at
him.
"The elders of my family sent me here to achieve self-sufficiency and
independence. My grandfather entrusted me with the duty of protecting
others. I want to carry out his charge." Budha paused and gazed intently
into her lovely eyes.
‘And how would you go about that?" A teasing smile played on her lips.
"By extending my protection to you."
"How?" Her eyes twinkled.
"By seeking protection from you!" Budha retorted.
"How?" The word sparkled with mischief.
"By … by making you my wife."
"How?" Her question was now a sensuous whisper against his ear. The
tantalizing smile of her lips was reflected in her eyes.
Budha sought the answer within himself. "Like this!" he whispered in turn
and drew her to him with a gentle pull of his arms which were entwined
round the slender column of her neck. Ila closed her eyes as Budha's
beautiful face hovered over her.
The lotuses in the pond rippled in the caressing breeze, giving their nod of
approval to the tender scene of love unfolding on the shore.
As the golden dusk enveloped the ashram, and the animals quieted in
anticipation of the night, Budha turned to Ila. "My dear, let us live here as
husband and wife," he said gently.
Ila looked up at him with an inscrutable expression. Abruptly, she turned
away and ran into the hermitage. The bewildered Budha stared at her
retreating back in anxious concern and thought: 'Why has she run away
from me? Is she afraid of me? Is the idea of marriage abhorrent to her?
Have I been too hasty?' Before he could follow her to make amends, Ila was
walking back to him. Her radiant face and resolute stride reassured Budha.
Ila came to stand before Budha. The hand she held concealed behind her
back slowly emerged, bearing a garland of fragrant blossoms. She paused
for a moment, her eyes melting in devotion. Then, she reached up to place
the garland round Budha's neck.
"Ila …" Budha murmured in surprise, his voice choked with emotion.
There was a barely perceptible tremor in his hands as he removed the
garland from his own neck and placed it around Ila's. Her eyes brimmed
with tears and a deep sigh escaped her lips. The string of flowers rose and
fell with the passionate heaving of her breast. She bent to gather the end of
the garland and looped it over Budha's head in a sensual gesture of union.
Budha looked down in delight at the single garland which was now a
steadfast chain of affection binding their two bodies together forever. His
eyes were bottomless pools of love as he drew her into his embrace. They
were now husband and wife – one heart and one soul.
The sweet chorus of the ashram birds echoed the auspicious strains of
nuptial music; the animals sported in an eruption of joy and the peacocks
danced in gay abandon, even in the absence of rain clouds.
Budha and Ila, lost to the world in each other's arms, remained oblivious to
the celebration unfolding around them.
"Narayana!" Sage Narada stood before Lord Brahma, elaborating on the
strange chain of events which saw Prince Sudyumna transformed into Ila,
and her subsequent marriage to Budha.
"Well, my son," Brahma smiled knowingly. "You do seem to have played a
pivotal role in these developments!"'
Narada's eyes twinkled as he bowed to his father in wry acknowledgement.
He asked: "Father, what are the implications of this transformation? Does
Sudyumna have to remain in his feminine form for the rest of his life?"
"Who knows what fate has in store for anyone?" Brahma replied with a
tranquil smile.
Saraswati, seated beside Brahma, broke into the exchange between father
and son: "Now, Swami, don't tell me you don't know what has been
ordained!" She gave her consort a teasing smile. "Was it you who set things
in motion to transform a man into a woman and make her Budha's wife?"
"No, Saraswati," Brahma shook his head. "I had no part in this. It was
Parameswara and Parvati who were responsible for the bizarre
transformation of the hapless Sudyumna into Ila."
He turned to his son in approval. "Narada did well to direct the maiden
towards Budha's hermitage."
"Narayana! As for the marriage, this bachelor had nothing to do with that!"
Narada laughed. "Budha and Ila took matters into their own hands there!"
A frown marred Saraswati's brow. "What if Ila returns to her original
form?" she asked.
"Narayana!" Narada was aghast at the thought. "I leave that conundrum to
my father!"
"Let's take things as they come," advised Brahma. "And what is coming
next, is the continued growth and prosperity of the Chandravamsa, with the
children born to Budha and Ila."
Lord Brahma smiled in contentment.
Budha and Ila led an idyllic life in the seclusion of the hermitage, devoted
to each other. In due course, Ila became pregnant. On an auspicious day, she
gave birth to a boy. Budha named his son Purooravas.
It seemed to his fond parents that, in a matter of days, their son had left the
shelter of their laps to crawl all over the hermitage in curious exploration.
He soon graduated to playing games of hide- and-seek, leading his parents
on merry chases. To their delight, Purooravas grew up strong and healthy,
demonstrating his virtuous character.
Purooravas was now five years old. The birds and animals of the hermitage
were his constant companions and playmates. Ila's unbridled joy in the
company of her doting husband and adorable son erased all thoughts of her
past male life. She relished her new life like a juicy, tangy amla fruit.
Ironically, it was her cherished motherhood which was instrumental in
making her forget her own abandoned parents.
Vaivasvatha and his wife, Sraddha, continued to grieve for the loss of their
only son, Sudyumna. The king persisted in his efforts to trace the prince,
dispatching soldiers to all corners of the land and commanding his
numerous spies to focus exclusively on gathering information on his son's
whereabouts. Finally, Vaivasvatha, accompanied by Sraddha, sought the aid
of Sage Vasishta, the revered preceptor of his clan.
"Master," the king bowed in respect to the sage. "You are all-knowing! Five
years ago, Sudyumna and his company of soldiers disappeared without a
trace while on a hunt. All my efforts to find him have been futile." He
sighed deeply. "All I ask is for you to tell us whether our son is alive or
dead. Let the knowledge grant us at least the fortitude of resignation."
The esteemed sage looked at the grief-stricken parents with compassionate
eyes. "Vaivasvatha, the parameters of your fruitless search have been
confined to the gross limits of your physical skills. Let me now harness the
incomparable power of the spirit in our endeavour."
The sage immersed himself in intense transcendental meditation,
concentrating his formidable spiritual strength on envisioning Sudyumna's
fate. His labor was soon rewarded: in his mind's eye, Vasishta clearly
perceived the prince's past and present circumstances.
Awakening from his trance, the sage turned to the anxiously waiting royal
couple. "Vaivasvatha, your son is alive."
"Master!" the king erupted in joy. "Your tidings gladden my heart!"
"Oh, King," Vasishta's gesture urged restraint. "Hear me out first." He
continued somberly. "Your son is no longer the Sudyumna of old. He has
metamorphosed into a woman called Ila and is now living in a hermitage as
a young man's wife." He paused to let the parents digest this incredible
information. "There is more: he is the mother of a little boy."
"Master! Can this be true?!" exclaimed the king.
His wife remained in stunned silence for a moment. Then, her face grew
thoughtful. "Swami," she gently reminded her husband. "Do you recall that
our son was originally born a girl?"
The king brushed aside his reservations and turned resolutely to Vasistha.
"Master," he bowed in supplication. "Bring our son back to us."
The rishi rose to make his departure. "I will set out for the hermitage at
dawn tomorrow."
The bewildered Vaivasvastha murmured to his queen: "Born a girl .
transformed into a boy … now a girl once more!" The king shrugged his
dejected shoulders.
"My dear, I am Vasishta."
With this innocuous introduction to Ila, the sage stood at the threshold of
Budha's hermitage.
At the sight of this familiar figure, Ila attempted to control her wildly racing
heart. She summoned an inviting smile to her lips and managed to say,
"Pranam, Sage. Welcome to our hermitage. My husband is foraging in the
forest …"
She was distracted by her son, who came rushing up in curiosity at the
arrival of a stranger at their door.
"Hmmm …" The sage looked intently at the boy. "Your son's visage reflects
the inherent qualities of a great emperor."
Vasishta seated himself on the grass mat laid out by Ila. He smiled up at her
and asked in apparent innocence, "So, I am a stranger to you, am I?" The
frisson of alarm which ran through her body did not escape his perceptive
eyes.
With lowered head, Ila murmured, "Yes, Maharshi."
"Let me give your memory a gentle nudge," the sage smiled. "Perhaps you
made my acquaintance earlier as Prince Sudyumna?"
"Maharshi!" exclaimed the aghast Ila.
"I am aware of your dual identity. I discovered your present whereabouts
through the power of meditation." He smiled reassuringly at her. "Now, tell
me the details of your transformation."
After her initial alarm subsided, Ila heaved a deep sigh of relief. Sage
Vasishta was privy to the secret which she had concealed for years. There
was nothing to be gained by remaining silent. At long last, she could
unburden her soul to someone. Ila gave the sage her account of the chain of
events which had culminated in the present circumstances of her life as a
wife and mother. She explained that the major factor which motivated her
actions was her conviction that no one would give credence to her bizarre
tale.
Vasishta remained in grave contemplation for a while. Then, coming to a
decision, he said: "It is your duty to resume your former identity and return
to the capital. You must shoulder the responsibilities of the kingdom and
relieve your father, King Vaivasvatha."
Ila shook her head in quick rejection of his proposal. "Master, I am
perfectly content with my present identity and life." Her voice was resolute.
"I will not return to the kingdom."
"This is the voice of selfishness. You are concerned only with your personal
happiness and comfort." Vasishta's piercing eyes bored into her own. "It
behooves you to render service to your parents as their only son.
Your father is old: it is your duty to take over the reins of the kingdom from
him." His words rang out with finality in the small chamber. "You cannot
evade that which has been ordained by fate."
Ila remained silent. She was only too aware of the truth of the sage's words.
"Your parents are bowed down with grief. You owe it to them to end this
separation and make their last years happy."
"Master …"
"You will not have to endure the return to the kingdom as a woman." He
reassured her. "I will use the power of my penance to intercede with
Paramashiva on your behalf. It is my responsibility to ensure that you
regain your former male identity as Prince Sudyumna." He paused in
sympathy. "Of course, you realize that Sudyumna cannot continue to be
Budha's wife."
Ila began to speak, only to fall silent at Budha's arrival.
Vasishta introduced himself to Budha, who prostrated himself before the
sage and touched his feet in reverence. "My hermitage is blessed by your
presence, Maharshi," Budha said. "May I know the reason for this
unexpected honour?"
"My dear Budha, I bring you sad tidings." Vasishta's gaze was
compassionate. "However, it is essential to acquaint you with the facts. Let
me explain …" Vasishta narrated the circumstances of Ila's life to the
astounded Budha.
Wide-eyed and open-mouthed in disbelief, Budha turned questioningly to
his beloved Ila.
"Swami , from the first moment of our meeting, I fell deeply in love with
you." Ila's voice was broken with grief. "I decided right then that I wanted
to spend the rest of my life with you. Fearing that you would reject me, I
concealed the truth from you." She bowed her head in penitence. "Please
forgive me."
Budha moved to stand close beside Ila and placed his arm protectively
around her shoulders. He locked eyes with Vasishta and said, "Maharshi , I
do not care about my wife's previous identity." His voice blazed defiance.
"All I want is my Ila – I refuse to let her go!"
Ila's eyes brimmed with tears at her husband's categorical declaration of
love.
Vasishta heaved a sympathetic sigh, but shook his head in mild disapproval.
"My dear Budha, calm yourself and introspect for a moment." He
continued, "Consider this imaginary scenario: I take your little son,
Purooravas, from you and raise him as my own. The decades pass and your
son becomes a young man. You and your wife are now old. You approach
me and ask for your son's return. If your request was turned down, how
would you feel?" He paused to make his point. "Can you now empathize
with Vaivasvatha and his wife?"
"Maharshi!" Budha exclaimed in consternation.
Vasishta was implacable. "Vaivasvatha and Sraddha are now old. Sudyumna
is his father's sole heir: there is no other legitimate ruler for the kingdom."
He paused for emphasis. "Let me make it clear to you both – if not today, at
some point in the near future, Ila will revert to her previous identity. Her
transformation into Sudyumna is inevitable – it is only a matter of time!"
He turned to Budha. "Once that happens, you will be unable to retain Ila as
your wife."
"Master!" Ila's tremulous whisper was laced with pain.
"Yes, dear." The rishi’s voice was gentle. "Remember, your father is no
ordinary man: he is Surya's son. He will not tamely accept the loss of his
heir." Vasishta addressed Budha directly. "Budha, my words are not meant
to intimidate you in any way. However unpalatable it may be, I have but
laid the bare truth before you."
"Maharshi," Budha's call was a cry of agony from the soul. "Will you take
Ila away from me?"
"Budha, my objective is to restore Sudyumna to his parents: not to separate
you and Ila." He turned to Ila. "My dear, tell me something – who gave you
the name Ila?"
"It was my own instinctive response to my feminine form, master," Ila
replied.
"There is a reason for this," Vasishta said. "You were born a girl. Ila was the
name bestowed on you by your parents."
Budha and Ila gasped and exchanged startled glances.
"Ila was born as Ila … and then transformed into Sudyumna?" Budha
wondered aloud.
"Yes, Budha." Vasishta smiled enigmatically. "It was I who transformed the
baby girl into a male infant. Come, I will tell you the story of Ila's birth."
Budha and Ila seated themselves before the sage, looking up at him in awe-
struck wonder. Vasishta smiled at the child on Ila's lap and beckoned him
close. "Purooravas, my son, come here."
The boy rose obediently and came to sit on the sage's lap. Vasishta stroked
the child's hair with surprisingly gentle fingers and planted a tender kiss on
his plump cheek. He looked above the little head at his listening parents and
commenced his strange tale.
"Vaivasvatha is Surya and Samjna's eldest son. He married Sraddhadevi and
assumed the reins of his kingdom with his father's blessing. The couple
remained childless for many long years. As the preceptor of his clan, I
advised Vaivasvatha to perform a yajna for progeny. Vaivasvatha bowed to
my counsel and set out to conduct a yajna for a male heir.
"However, unknown to her husband, Sraddha instructed the presiding priest
to recite the prescribed mantras to beget a girl child. The yajna was
completed and soon bore fruit: Sraddha became pregnant and, in due
course, delivered a baby girl. The bewildered Vaivasvatha summoned me
and asked how a yajna seeking a boy could culminate in the birth of a girl.
Through my great powers of meditation, I supplied the answer: the yajna
had indeed been conducted with the objective of obtaining a daughter.
"The king sank into despair. His hope of being granted son who would be
his heir, and the guardian of his lineage, was dashed forever.
"Vaivasvatha's consuming grief moved me to pity. Acknowledging the fact
that his vast kingdom was desperately in need of an heir, I appealed to Sri
Mahavishnu. Using the power of my tapas, I changed the baby girl into a
boy. The delighted king named his son Sudyumna."
Budha and Ila listened in speechless amazement to Vasishta's fascinating
tale.
The sage now addressed them with great sympathy. "Do not let emotion
cloud your intellect. As Vaivasvatha's heir, it is inevitable that Sudyumna
will soon ascend his father's throne." He paused and smiled tenderly at the
child in his lap. "In his turn, our little Pooruravas will become king. It is
your duty as parents to ensure that the child comes into his rightful
inheritance." He continued gravely. "The transformation of Sudyumna to Ila
is the consequence of Shiva and Parvati's curse. I will undertake tapas to
propitiate Lord Shiva and restore Ila to her previous identity."
"Maharshi, I understand your position." Budha admitted sorrowfully. "But
it does not change the fact that you are depriving me of the wife who is the
light of my life."
"My dear Budha," comforted Vasishta: "You are Chandra's son. Your birth
was divinely ordained for a reason. I am confident that Lord Shiva, who
made his wife, Parvati, one-half of his own self would never countenance
the separation of a husband and wife."
The sage smiled at them. "Let's leave the future in Lord Shiva's eminently
capable and compassionate hands."
Sage Vasishta left for the capital and acquainted Vaivasvatha and Sraddha
with the prevailing state of affairs.
He assured the king: "It was I who changed your baby girl into a male heir.
Now, I take upon myself the responsibility of again transforming Ila into
Prince Sudyumna."
Vaivasvatha folded his hands in deep gratitude and respect. "Master, I
beseech you to restore my son to me and ensure the smooth succession of
my dynasty. Our bloodline will remain eternally indebted to you."
"It is my bounden duty as your preceptor, Vaivasvatha. I will immediately
commence my tapas: the rest is up to Parameswara's divine magnanimity."
Vasishta set out on his mission with a resolute stride.
Sage Vasishta, the formidable spiritualist, and Brahma's maanasaputra,
soon achieved his objective of obtaining Paramashiva's darshan.
The Lord smiled at him in benediction and asked, "Vasishta, what do you
require from me?"
"Bhagavan, is there anything you are unaware of?! Your curse has
transformed Sudyumna, the only son of Vaivasvatha, into a female."
"Who, as the beautiful Ila, accepted Budha as her husband and gave birth to
a son!" There was a twinkle in Parameswara's dark eyes.
Vasishta continued: "Vaivasvatha and Sraddhadevi are grief-stricken at the
loss of their only child, born after long years of barrenness. Vaivasvatha's
kingdom languishes without an heir." The sage folded his hands in humble
supplication. "Lord, in your mercy, withdraw your curse and bless
Vaivasvatha by restoring his son to his original male form."
"The curse is a combined one: as my part of it is only half, I can revoke
only half of it!" laughed Lord Shiva mischievously.
"Half?!" exclaimed the bewildered sage.
"Yes, Vasishta. I insist that the revocation of the curse be fair to both
Vaivasvatha and Budha – both of whom have equal claims on the victim of
the curse. On one hand, a son and heir is essential, while on the other, a
beloved wife is needed." The Lord paused and then declared: "This is my
word: the bearer of the curse will assume the identity of Sudyumna for one
month and the form of Ila for the following month. This immutable cycle
will prevail for the rest of his life."
"Parameswara!" Sage Vasishta bowed his head in acceptance.
"Sudyumna will rule his kingdom for one month; Ila will serve Budha as
his loving wife for the next month." Paramashiva extended his arm in
benediction. "May good fortune prevail!"
The Lord vanished.
The rising sun painted the water in sparkling hues of gold and red. The
surface of the pond was carpeted with lotuses in full bloom. Budha,
carrying the dripping Purooravas in his arms, finished his bath and made for
the shore. He set his son on the grassy bank and wiped him down with a dry
towel. Purooravas submitted unthinkingly to his father ministrations: his
eyes were fixed on his mother, who continued to swim in the lake.
Purooravas returned Ila's radiant smile and tugged at Budha's hand. The
child pointed to his mother saying, "Father, look – there is a new lotus
blooming between those two lotuses: don't you think it is the most beautiful
flower in the whole pond?"
Budha turned in the direction of his son's pointing hand: his heart melted at
the sight of his wife's exquisitely lovely face, which easily outdid the
sparkling lotuses in beauty.
Ila waved to her two admirers on the shore before diving into the water.
Budha and Purooravas stood with their eyes glued to the spot where they
expected her face to resurface among the blossoms.
There! A smiling face appeared between two lotuses. But … wait . that was
not Ila's face … it was the face of a man!
"Father!" Purooravas' alarmed eyes sought Budha's. "Where is mother?"
The nonplussed Budha could not summon up the words to answer his son.
His chaotic thoughts raced through his mind: 'Who is this man? Where is
Ila?'
The stranger waved merrily at the father and son standing transfixed on the
shore, and made his way to them with firm strokes. Standing in the shallows
before them, the stranger smiled at Budha and Purooravas with easy
familiarity.
Budha glared angrily at the stranger. "Who are you? What have you done to
my wife?" His voice was harsh in accusation.
The man's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Swami … " The man stopped
abruptly, obviously shocked at the harsh sound of his own voice. Slowly, he
bent to survey his body – he froze for a moment in abject terror and then
looked up at Budha with agonized eyes.
Budha's heart turned over: Was this Ila, the love of his life? Had Sage
Vasishta accomplished what he had set out to do? Had his wife been
transformed into this stranger? Budha's heart ached at the sight of his son's
desolate face – was Purooravas now a motherless child?
"Swami!" the stranger turned to Budha beseechingly. "It is I – your Ila.
What you see now is my former male identity."
"Ila …" the word was wrenched from Budha's wounded soul.
"Swami , Sage Vasishta has succeeded in restoring Prince Sudyumna's
identity," there was a world of painful resignation in those sorrowful words.
Budha sank to the ground in despair.
"Father, where is mother?" His son's plaintive cry lacerated his aching heart.
Budha gathered Purooravas into a tight embrace and heaved a racking sigh.
"My son, your mother has left us."
A pall of gloom hung over the hermitage. Budha and Sudyumna sat in
stunned silence on the dais. Budha could not help stealing quick glances at
Sudyumna: the strong, muscular physique, the handsome face sporting a
luxuriant moustache with its connotation of courage and manly pride …
Purooravas, tired and fretting, had finally given up his constant refrain, 'I
want mother.' The child rested on his father's lap – an occasional sob
convulsed his little body. Even the birds and animals of the ashram had
ceased their happy cries, as if aware of the impending tragedy of separation.
"My dear Sudyumna!" Vasishta's exclamation of happy surprise startled the
silent company. The sage descended from his chariot and walked towards
them, a spring in his step.
"Master!" Sudyumna rose and made his obeisance to the sage.
Vasishta looked intently at the young man with the chiseled features of
royalty and beamed in triumph. "May happiness be yours! We meet after
the passage of long years, Prince Sudyumna – thanks to Paramashiva's
magnanimity! Imagine your parents' delight at your reunion with them!"
"Yes, Maharshi," Sudyumna said despondently. "The joy of reunion on one
side … and the sorrow of separation on the other." He gestured to Budha.
"Take a look at that father and son."
Vasishta turned his smiling gaze to Budha and Purooravas. Budha
prostrated himself at the sage's feet, with Purooravas promptly following his
father's example. Sorrow was etched in deep lines on Budha's face.
"Long may you live!" Vasishta laid his hand on the child's head in a gentle
caress. "Purooravas is a credit to his respectable parents!"
"Maharshi …" Budha managed a tremulous greeting. His eyes brimmed
with unshed tears.
"My dear Budha," the sage's voice resonated with warm sympathy. "Dry
your tears and rejoice: your anticipated separation from Ila will be neither
permanent nor continuous."
"Maharshi!" A gleam of hope flickered in Budha's anxious eyes.
"Yes, Budha," smiled the sage. "Did I not assure you that Paramewara
would not countenance the separation of a husband and wife? Of his own
volition, he has kept your welfare in mind and revoked the curse in a
manner benefiting all the concerned parties."
Vasishta paused and looked at the two men in turn. "This is Lord Shiva's
eminently fair decree: Sudyumna will be Prince Sudyumna for one month -
and then take on the identity of Ila for the next month."
"Maharshi, can this be true?!" Budha exclaimed in delight.
"Yes, Budha. Vaivasvatha's child will rule his kingdom for a month as his
father's son, Sudyumna; the following month he will serve you as your
wife, Ila." Vasishta smiled in satisfaction.
"Master, my parents and I are indebted to you for all eternity!" Sudyumna
exclaimed in impassioned gratitude.
"Sudyumna, you are indeed twice-blessed!" Vasishta smiled at the prince.
"You are now the grandson of Surya, and the daughter-in-law of Chandra!"
The sage turned to Budha. "Budha, you too are fortunate: united with your
wife one month and separated from her the next! This cycle of union and
separation will continuously renew your conjugal relationship, keeping it
ever-fresh and tender."
Vasishta paused to look at the little boy clasped in his father's arms. "I have
another suggestion to make, Budha. As befitting Purooravas' position as a
future king, it would do him good to live in the palace instead of at the
hermitage. It is essential that he receive the education appropriate to his
royal status."
Budha blanched and his visage clouded with sorrow. "How can I live
without my son?" he cried out in despair.
"Budha, look at it from this perspective: I'm sure you agree that it is best for
the child to remain in his mother's care. By accepting my counsel, you will
ensure that Purooravas constantly enjoys his mother's affection – whether as
Ila in the hermitage, or as Sudyumna at the palace."
"The Maharshi is right," Sudyumna assured Budha. "I will take Purooravas
with me – I will also arrange for him to visit the hermitage frequently, with
an escort of soldiers."
Budha wordlessly lifted Purooravas into his arms and gazed intently into his
face. "Son, listen carefully to my words." He gestured to Sudyumna. "This
is your mother … she has changed into a prince named Sudyumna for a
month. At the end of the month, the prince will change back into your
mother." He smiled tenderly at his son. "So, tell me now: who is inside
Sudyumna?"
The little boy exclaimed in delight: "Mother! Mother is inside the prince!"
He continued excitedly, "And, after a month, the prince will be inside
mother!"
Budha patted his son approvingly on his shoulder. "So, since Sudyumna and
Mother are one and the same, you should go to the capital with the prince."
The little boy frowned doubtfully. Budha quickly reassured him. "You can
always come to see me here."
"When can I come back home, father?" There was a forlorn note to
Purooravas' query.
"Whenever you wish – all you have to do is let me know and I will arrange
an escort of soldiers to take you to the hermitage." Sudyumna assured the
child, stroking his hair comfortingly.
At that, excitement banished the clouds of doubt from the boy's brow and
he raised his trusting arms to Sudyumna. "Take me to the capital in your
chariot!" He turned to Budha. "Father, I will come back home soon to see
you!"
Budha embraced his son and kissed him tenderly. Sudyumna touched
Budha's feet in respect and then lifted the child into his arms.
"Purooravas, there are two people in the palace who are looking forward
eagerly to playing with you," said Vasishta, a twinkle in his eye.
"Who are they, master?" asked the child eagerly.
"Your grandparents, who love you very much."
The sage turned to the prince. "Come, Sudyumna. The king and queen
await your arrival – their yearning eyes strain to glimpse the dust raised by
our chariot wheels. Let us be on our way!"
‘And that, my dear boys," said Nirvikalpananda to his disciples, "is the
story of Budha's life. What do you think of it?"
"Master, the life story – and your expert narration, are both riveting!"
Vimalanada exclaimed.
"I have a doubt, master …" It was Sadananda.
"What is it, Sadananda?" asked Nirvikalpananda with a benign smile.
"We know that Budha married Iladevi." Sadananda paused. "However,
some accounts of the Navagrahas hold that Jnaani is Budha's wife. Does
this imply that Budha married twice?"
"Good question, Sadananda … but one which evades a definite answer.
Nowhere in the Puranas is it said that Budha married again: nor is there any
disclaimer regarding Ila's position as Budha's wife." He paused
emphatically: "The epics categorically state that Sudyumna, son of
Vaivasvatha, was transformed into a woman, Ila, and this Ila became
Budha's wife. Their marriage laid the foundation for the Chandravamsa
bloodline. Purooravas, their son, is an eminent descendent of Chandra's
lineage."
"But, master, who then is Jnaani?" Sadananda persisted in his query.
"I think we can safely assume that Jnaani is another name for Iladevi." The
guru continued in a thoughtful vein. "Ila created history by being born a
female, changed into a male, again being transformed into a woman and
back once more into a man! In recognition of this, Ila and Jnaani may be
considered to be one and the same individual. Perhaps Ila was bestowed the
name, Jnaani, at the time of Budha's elevation to the pantheon of the
Navagrahas."
The four disciples nodded in agreement. "That is well reasoned, master.
And it also recognizes Ila's unswerving loyalty to Budha," said
Vimalananda in satisfaction.
"Very well … and now we come to the story of the fifth graha – Brhaspati."
Nirvikalpananda took a deep breath. "Let us refresh our memories: Taara
returned to her husband after her elopement with Chandra and resumed her
role as a dutiful wife to Brhaspati. All was now well with their marriage …"
The Life of Guru
B rhaspati, eager to commence his ritual morning worship, looked up at
his wife's approach. "Taara, I have been waiting for quite awhile –
Punjikasthala is yet to return with the flowers for the morning puja." He
frowned. "Is the maid loitering somewhere? Or have you dispatched her on
another errand?"
Taara shook her head and reassured him. "Her only chore was to gather the
flowers, Swami – she will be here soon." She continued: ‘As for me, I am
on my way to the river for my bath. I will return with the water for the
ashram ."
Brhaspati watched his wife depart. He gave a tetchy sniff and rose to pace
up and down, impatiently awaiting the arrival of the tardy maidservant.
Punjikasthala strolled leisurely through the garden, picking flowers and
dropping them into the woven-grass basket in her hand. She reached up to
bend a flower-laden branch – only to freeze in sudden alarm: as shrill laugh
shattered the serene morning calm of the deserted garden. The maid pricked
up her ears in surprise and remained motionless: again, peals of merriment
reached her on a gust of wind. She noted the distinct male and female
timbres in the happy chorus.
Who were these intruders? Why were they in the hermitage garden? And
what was the reason behind their undiluted mirth? Stirred by strong
curiosity, Punjikasthala moved stealthily in the direction of the laughter …
The sounds of glee became increasingly distinct. The woman's laughter was
punctuated by small silences: it trilled out again and again in little bursts of
sensuous delight, as though spasms of pleasure coursed intermittently
through her aroused body. Punjikasthala crouched behind a thicket and
furtively drew aside a branch. As she peered into the bower which lay
before her, a soft gasp of surprise escaped her lips and the basket fell from
her nerveless fingers. Her heart raced in excitement as she stared in
fascination at the amorous scene unfolding under her gaze.
A gandharva couple lay coiled in tight embrace on the soft grass of the
concealed arbor. Their gossamer-fine vestments did nothing to hide the
sheen of their flaming figures, streaked with the juice of betel leaves and
areca nuts. Punjikasthala could not tear her eyes away from the inflamed
bodies, writhing in the erotic throes of uninhibited carnal pleasure. Her
errand long forgotten, the maid surrendered to her prurient interest in the
gandharvas’ lascivious coupling. Her own sexual deprivation made her
doubly receptive to the eroticism on display before her. Time stood still for
Punjikasthala: goosebumps prickled on her arms; the perspiration poured
from her burning skin.
In a sudden flash of thrashing limbs, the gandharva couple vanished from
the bower. But the maid remained rooted to the spot: the sexual exploits of
the lovers played itself in a continuous loop in her febrile imagination. Her
sweat-drenched body shuddered in delicious remembrance.
Coming to her senses, Punjikasthala mechanically picked up the discarded
basket and resumed picking flowers. Her fingers trembled … the erotic
scene continued to haunt her: she could not banish the vivid images from
her heightened senses. She ached with the urgent need for sexual release
and yearned for the sight and touch of a male. Suddenly, the handsome
Brhaspati flashed through her churning mind, and things fell into place: yes,
her master – he whom she served with such devotion – he was the only man
who could give her fulfillment she craved.
Brhaspati would be alone in the ashram – the maid was well aware that this
was the time of Taara's usual, extended visit to the river. Punjikasthala
quickly filled her basket and hurried to the hermitage, her arousal a swarm
of bees buzzing in her head.
Brhaspati stopped his impatient pacing and frowned darkly at the maid.
"Punjika, where have you been?" His voice was harsh in reprimand. "Do
you realize that the time of worship is almost over?"
Punjikasthala, undaunted by his dark frown, came to stand close beside
him.
Brhaspati eyed her sweat-drenched body with distaste and raised his
eyebrows in interrogation. "What is the meaning of this?" He continued in
sudden realization. "Oh, so you have been larking in the river fully dressed?
You silly, irresponsible girl!"
Punjikasthala did not deign to reply. Her eyes, gleaming unnaturally, held
Brhaspati's own indignant gaze. In an abrupt gesture, she emptied the basket
of flowers into the folds of her upper garment. Her hands moved again – the
fragrant blossoms rained gently on the astounded deva- guru. Along with
the flowers, her upper garment also dropped to the ground.
"These flowers have not been gathered for devotion, but for passion."
Punjikasthala gave a husky laugh. "I offer them, not to the god of the
universe, but to the god of love!" She pointedly ignored her exposed
breasts.
"Punjika!" Brhaspati's shout was a cross between horror and fury. "What
insolence! Have you by any chance lost your mind, girl?"
Punjikasthala burst into throaty amusement. "I am not insolent … I am
amorous! My body craves sexual fulfillment in your arms. Make me yours."
Before the aghast Brhaspati could gather his wits, Punjikasthala pulled him
into a close embrace and lifted her face expectantly to his. He felt the heat
of her physical arousal and struggled in vain to free himself from her tight
hold. Her clinging arms were creepers implacably twined round a tree.
"Master, I am yours: take me," she murmured in ecstasy. "Our union will
surpass that of the gandharvas in exhilarating pleasure."
"Punjika!" Brhaspati howled in frustration as he fought to break free from
her iron clasp.
"Master, like the gandharvas , let us pledge ourselves to each other in the
seclusion of the bower."
Brhaspati stared with disbelief into her face as she mumbled meaningless
endearments. In a flash of comprehension, he realized that the girl had
witnessed the coupling of a gandharva couple.
"Master," the demented girl raved on. "My body burns with lust. Only your
passionate embrace can douse the consuming flames. Come," she urged him
on. "Come with me to the sweet, flower-carpeted bower."
Brhaspti's body shook with uncontrollable rage. His fury gave him the
strength to wrench himself out of Punjikasthala's clinging arms. He flung
her roughly to the ground and stood towering over her, his eyes blazing in
anger. The maid picked herself up and, oblivious to his wrath, stared into
his eyes in seductive invitation.
"Punjika!" Brhaspati's voice was a terrifying clap of thunder.
"Let us go to the bower, master," she was blissfully immune to his
tempestuous reaction. "A soft bed of flowers is waiting to receive us …"
"You shameless hussy! How dare you ask me to commit the sin of
adultery?!" Brhaspati roared.
Punjikasthala cackled in unbridled mirth. "Master, how naive you are! Tell
me: how is it a sin for you to bask in the same carnal pleasure which your
wife, Taaradevi, enjoyed with another man?" Her voice took on a pleading
note. "Sacrificing my own personal needs and aspirations, I have dedicated
my life to your comfort. Just as I offered you my services, I now offer you
my body – it is ripe for the plucking. Please … make me yours!"
Some vestige of pride reared its head in the besotted girl as she continued:
"And, let me remind you, master, I am no mere mortal: I am a divine nymph
- one endowed with extraordinary beauty"
The astounded Brhaspati stared into her eyes, which burned with
unquenched lust. Her red lips were parted in erotic invitation. The guru 's
gaze travelled over her body Her exposed breasts rose and fell in rhythm
with her panting desire. Misinterpreting his keen glance, Punjikasthala
eagerly moved closer to him.
"Stop right there!" Brhaspati's angry command reverberated like the roar of
a goaded lion in its den, halting Punjikasthala in her tracks. "You harlot!
You are aflame with abnormal lust: your illicit sexual appetite is sinful and
depraved!" His impassioned voice held deep contempt. "Your lust mimics
the insatiable concupiscence of the simian race." His piercing eyes held hers
in implacable fury. "This is the curse of Brhaspati: you will become a
female monkey!"
Brhaspati's malediction rang in Punjikasthala's ears; a cold apprehension
took root in the depths of her being. 'You will become a female monkey!'
Her body shivered in mind-numbing terror. It was now drenched, not in the
heat of desire, but in the cold sweat of abject dread. The insane delirium
which had possessed her vanished without a trace, leaving in its wake cold
sobriety. She – a heavenly nymph of incredible loveliness - to become a
monkey!
She hurriedly draped her upper garment over her shoulder. Bursting into
tears, Punjikasthala fell prostrate at Brhaspati's feet in wracking remorse.
"Master … be merciful to your poor servant! I was bewitched . the sight of
the gandharvas in flagrant sexual intercourse cast an evil spell on me." Her
body convulsed in sobs. "Deliver me from your curse, master. Forgive me!"
Brhaspati's heart melted at Punjikasthala's pitiable remorse. He looked
down in sympathy at the prostrate figure. "Punjika, stand up, girl," he said
kindly.
She stood and looked at him with pleading, tear-filled eyes.
"Punjika," Brhaspti continued gently, "my curse cannot be revoked…"
"Master!" it was a cry of despair.
"But, let me tell you this: my malediction is actually a boon in another
form." The girl's eyes mirrored her bewilderment.
"Yes, Punjika: my curse is your boon." He explained: ‘As a monkey, you
are destined to marry a male monkey of heroic character. The carnal
pleasure you craved will be an integral part of your conjugal life."
Brhaspati's voice assumed new gravity. "You will beget a son who will
shine as a warrior par excellence. He will achieve total mastery over his
senses and attain immortality." He paused. "There is more: your son will
serve Lord Vishnu's incarnation in the Tretayuga and will come to be
worshipped by all. Your own name will achieve renown and live on through
him."
At Brhaspati's inspiring prophesy, Punjikasthala dried her tears and stood
tall. "Truly, I am blessed, master," she smiled bravely.
"Yes, indeed, Punjika," her master smiled encouragingly at her. "Now, be on
your way."
The maid bent to touch Brhaspati's feet in respect. "Where should I go,
master?" she asked.
"Follow your heart, Punjika: it will show you the path ordained for you. Be
true to the dictates of your inner self. May fortune smile on you!"
Without a backward glance, Punjikasthala resolutely walked out of the
hermitage. Brhaspati stood watching her retreating figure with a poignant
smile on his face.
Taara, back from her trip to the river, looked askance at the scattered
flowers and the signs of her husband's incomplete morning worship.
"Swami!" she exclaimed, "Whose handiwork is this?"
"Those flowers are not offerings of devotion, but the outpouring of
undiluted lust, Taara," Brhaspati explained. "Your maid, Punjikasthala,
showered those flowers on me!"
Taara looked at him in surprised consternation. Her face shone with pity as
Brhaspati narrated the events of the morning to her.
"Oh, poor Punjika!" She turned accusatory eyes on her husband. "You could
have forgiven the misguided girl – surely, she does not merit such harsh
treatment?"
"Taara, an impulsive curse, pronounced in the heat of anger, may be
undeservedly harsh on the transgressor." He paused. "However, in this case,
my curse was invoked only after deep thought and prescience." Brhaspati
smiled benignly at his troubled wife.
"Prescience?" she frowned in incomprehension.
"Yes, it was foresight on my part to turn Punjika into a she-monkey. Think,
Taara: in all these years, Punjika has never looked on me with anything but
respectful devotion. Yet, her erotic voyeurism robbed her of her sanity and
goaded her to seduce me."
He paused thoughtfully. "Sexual desire is a natural passion which springs
from the depths of the heart and body – it is the sublime expression of true
love. What Punjika experienced was far removed from this: it was an
unnaturally incited passion which craved prohibited pleasure. It was the
same desire for uninhibited carnal delight which is inherent in the simian
race." He turned to Taara with a gentle smile. "Now, tell me – was I right in
making Punjika a monkey? In her new form, she can enjoy the bodily
pleasure she desperately craved."
"You know best the tenets of righteousness." Taara smiled back at her
husband. "After all, you are the preceptor of the gods!"
The cool night breeze wafted into the open window of the bed chamber,
laden with the fragrance of flowers. Taara waited for Brhaspati's return
from Indra's court. He was rather late today. Well, she would soon hear the
wheels of Maatali's chariot. Engrossed in her thoughts, Taara trimmed the
sputtering lamp and closed the window shutters. The increased glow
illuminated every corner of the room.
"Taara!"
She turned towards the door – it was Brhaspati. He brought in his wake a
divine fragrance which spread across the chamber to captivate her senses.
Brhaspati remained motionless at the door, gazing at his wife standing
beside the lamp. The flickering flame cast an enticing pattern of light and
shadow on her dappled beauty. Her exquisite loveliness was mirrored in her
flawless face. Beneath the shapely arch of her eyebrows, her eyes outdid the
lamp in its radiance. Her crimson lips were parted in a wordless invitation
which reached out to him in the silence.
Brhaspati's transfixed eyes hungrily drank in Taara's beauty as he walked
slowly towards her. The tantalizing perfume hung about him like a thick
cloud. He stopped before her and held out his hand: an exotic flower
gleamed on his palm like an ornament studded with the precious
navarathnas.
"Indra's queen, Sachidevi, sends this flower as a gift to Brhaspati's queen,
Taaradevi."
Taara did not take the proffered bloom from his hand. Instead, she stooped
over his palm with infinite grace and softly inhaled the exquisite fragrance
of the divine flower. An enigmatic smiled played on her parted lips as she
raised her head to lock eyes with Brhaspati. She deliberately turned her
back on him and stood still.
As if in a trance, Brhaspati moved forward and instinctively pinned the
flower to her braided hair. The blossom radiated light on her lustrous, black
locks like a jeweled ornament. Now, in his turn, Brhaspati bent over the
flower and sniffed its fragrant petals. He placed his hands on Taara's slender
shoulders and gently turned her round to face him. Her eyes met his in
glowing intensity.
"Why is the window closed, Taara?" Brhaspati asked softly.
Taara avoided his gaze.
"Why, Taara?" he insisted on an answer.
"I … I can see him at the window … he is peeping into our room."
"Who? Who is he?" Brhaspati frowned in bewilderment.
"He." After a moment's hesitation, she murmured softly, "Budha's father
…" Her words trailed away into the silence.
"Taara!" Brhaspati exclaimed.
"I cannot bear the sight … it repels me!"
"Taara!" Brhaspati was deeply moved by his wife's open repudiation of her
former lover. He drew her into the warmth of his embrace and looked down
searchingly into her lovely face. "My beloved, my heart rejoices in your
devotion. Any boon you desire will be yours."
Taara's eyes lighted up in surprised delight.
"Tell me, Taara: what is your heart's desire?" Brhaspati's arms tightened
their hold on her.
Taara placed her soft palms on his chest and looked up into his adoring
eyes. "Swami, bless me with a handsome, intelligent son," she whispered
huskily.
‘And do you think that is a boon for you alone?!" Brhaspati gave a soft
chuckle. "That is a blessing to be shared by both of us!"
"Swami …" The lamplight concealed her blushes.
"A son of exemplary intelligence and good looks will be born to you,
Taara." Brhaspati's blessing was accompanied by a shuddering sigh of
delight. Taara nestled her head in the hollow beneath his throat.
A sudden gust of wind extinguished the lamp …
Brhaspati's boon fructified and Taara was soon pregnant.
Taara sat on the raised, earthen platform under the spreading branches of a
tree in the hermitage garden, smiling contentedly. At her side was a bamboo
basket, filled with fruits, edible roots and tender shoots. An expectant
crowd of birds and animals, all in various stages of pregnancy, hovered
before her, waiting eagerly for the tempting bounty.
Brhaspati stopped near the jostling crowd and laughed in pure enjoyment of
the scene. "This is indeed a sight for sore eyes: an assembly of pregnant
ladies!" His eyes twinkled in merriment. ‘And what is the reason for this
solemn gathering, may I know?!"
"Swami , I just cannot comprehend how these creatures got wind of my
pregnancy!" Taara shrugged her shoulders in wry bemusement. "Every
morning and evening, they faithfully arrive at the hermitage to pay me a
visit! So, I have decided to receive them here daily with their favourite
delicacies!"
"Isn't it wonderful?!" Brhaspati exclaimed. "It does seem that they
empathize with your condition and are here to wish you luck."
Taara smiled and offered a ripe berry to a parrot which hovered over her.
"This gathering warms my heart," Brhaspati said.
"It would be even better if the offspring of all the soon-to-be mothers were
gathered here!" Taara laughed at him.
In due course, the hermitage teemed with fledglings, fawns and litters of
rabbits. And, as if to assume the role of playmate to these tiny creatures, a
son was born to Taara. With his fair complexion, wide eyes and shapely
nose, the boy was the epitome of masculine beauty.
"Swami, see how beautiful my son is!" Taara glowed with pride.
"He takes after his beautiful mother," Brhaspati said, "and will grow up to
be a handsome young man."
The deva-guru gently fondled his son's tiny feet, velvety-soft like pink lotus
petals.
The entire company of devas graced the naming ceremony of their
preceptor's son.
Brhaspati turned to Indra: "Mahendra, I have decided to name my son
Kacha."
"So be it, master," Indra inclined his head in agreement. "Needless to say,
your every decision is sure to be founded on firm reason."
Indra and his consort, Sachidevi, showered the infant with rich gifts.
"Master, Kacha will surpass the devas’ sons in handsomeness. He will
thrive under your tutelage. It is my wish that you raise him to become a
well-wisher of the gods and a worthy heir to their esteemed preceptor."
"So be it, Indra." Brhaspati held his arm in benediction over the king of the
devas .
Kacha, nursed on his mother's milk, glowed with health and vigor. The
hermitage echoed with the happy music of his childish laughter. The birds
and animals were his constant companions and playmates.
In due course, Brhaspati, teacher par excellence, commenced his son's
education …
The years rolled by and Taara was once again pregnant.
‘Another handsome son will soon be ours," she remarked complacently to
Brhaspati.
Her husband smiled. "It is Brahma, the Creator, who ordains the particulars
of every birth. We parents are but the instruments of his will."
A tiny seed of doubt took root in Taara's being at her husband's enigmatic
words. Her qualms were justified at the end of nine months. She gave birth
to a son at an auspicious time and day.
However, Taara shuddered at the sight of the infant: the tiny body was
entirely covered with fine hair, while the wrinkled face glowed a fiery red.
She covered her eyes in horror at the sight of the little tail wagging at its
rear end. Taara was engulfed in sorrow. This monkey-child was a
punishment imposed on her by destiny, she thought.
Brhaspati attempted to console his grieving wife. "Taara, this child is but an
expression of the Supreme Lord's will. His simian form is no cause for
lamentation. I assure you, he is extremely good-looking by the standards of
his race." He smiled gently at her. "You are a beauty among women,
dearest, while your son is a beauty among monkeys. It is patently unfair to
impose one race's ideals of beauty on another race."
"Swami …" Taara faltered.
"I see a great future ahead of your son, Taara. He is no ordinary monkey. I
repeat – he is the result of God's divine will." He continued thoughtfully:
"He will not remain under our care for long, but will grow up independently
in the forests. He will be tall and enjoy a very long life."
"Swami , why all these elaborate details now?" Taara interrupted her
husband's prophecy.
"Listen well, my dear," said Brhaspati. "I bestow on him the name, Taara:
this will make your own name eternally renowned. It is ordained that your
son will dedicate his considerable strength and valour to the service of Lord
Vishnu at the time of the Supreme God's incarnation on earth. He will
achieve undying fame." Brhaspati paused solemnly. "Taara, your son, and
the son who is to be born to Punjikasthala in her monkey-form, are ordained
to jointly serve Lord Vishnu in his future incarnation."
"My son is to have the honour of serving the Supreme Lord?!" A smile
replaced the lines of sorrow on Taara's face.
"Yes, my dear." Brhaspati proclaimed: "I shall bestow on our son
formidable strength and stature, combined with sterling mental faculties ."
He paused as his elder son came rushing into the room.
Kacha peered curiously at the newborn infant and looked questioningly at
his mother.
"This is your little brother, Kacha," Taara said. "His name is Taara: just like
mine!"
"Oh, is this my brother?!" Kacha exclaimed in delight. "He is beautiful! Just
look at his cute little face!" He turned eagerly to Taara. "Mother, when can I
play with him?"
Brhaspati smiled at Taara, with an 'I-told-you-so' look in his eyes. "Kacha
instantaneously appreciated the infant's beauty, which escaped even your
motherly eyes. Indeed, beauty does lie in the eye of the beholder!
The little Taara grew in leaps and bounds, his prodigious physical stature
and strength impressing one and all. Soon, the hermitage trees could not
match the demands of his boisterous romps and exercises. The perceptive
Brhaspati noted the increasing signs of restlessness and ennui evident in his
younger son.
The deva-guru spoke to his wife: "Taara, our son finds himself cruelly
stifled within the restricted confines of the hermitage. We must give him the
vast spaces and open horizons required for the development of his
extraordinary body and mind." His eyes rested tenderly on the monkey-
child swinging on the branches of the tree above them. "It is time to let him
enjoy the freedom of the dense forest."
Taara nodded in silent concord. Brhaspati summoned the young Taara and
gave him the option of leaving for the forest. The monkey-child eagerly
accepted the offer and prepared to set out at once.
Brhaspati, Taara and Kacha bade him a fond farewell and looked after him
with misty eyes as he excitedly swung from tree to tree and set out on his
own path. He soon disappeared from their view.
"Mother, when will I grow to be as tall and strong as my brother?" It was
Kacha.
Taara, eyes moist at this sudden separation from her younger son,
wordlessly ruffled Kacha's hair. She heaved a sigh of sorrow and turned
towards the hermitage. The loss of her son, although he was a monkey,
weighed heavily on her heart …
There was a moment's silence as Nirvikalpananda came to the end of his
narrative.
"Master, is that the end of Brhaspati's story?" A vein of disappointment ran
through Vimalananda's voice. "It seems rather brief!"
Nirvikalpananda smiled at his disciple's chagrined expression. ‘At this
juncture, I have restricted my narrative to the extent required for your
straightforward comprehension. It must be noted that the lives of Brhaspati,
preceptor of the gods, and Usana, preceptor of the asuras, are intertwined to
a great extent. Therefore, I will give you further information on Brihaspati
when we come to Usana's story."
There was a mild reprimand in his next words. "Always bear in mind that
each one of the Navagrahas has his own unique history. It is not the length
of the narrative which matters, but the significance and glory of each."
"Your fascinating discourse compels interest, master!" exclaimed
Chidananda.
"That is good to know: a worthy narrative should seamlessly combine
information and appreciative interest." Nirvikalpananda smiled.
"Now, let us examine the life of Sukra, the sixth graha. We are aware that
Usana, the son of Puloma and Bhrgu, was anointed preceptor of the asuras .
Installed at the court of the asura -king, Vrshaparva, Usana was highly
respected – both as the king's mentor and as the the young rakshasas’
teacher." He paused to gather the threads of his narrative. ‘And now we
come to the events of the day which laid the foundation for Usana's
transformation into Sukra …"
OceanofPDF.com
The Life of Sukra
A s he entered the durbar hall, Usana's keen eyes took in the dejected
posture of the asura king on his ornate throne.
"Vrshaparva, why the dark frown upon your brow?" Usana asked. He
continued proudly: "As long as I am your preceptor, there is no need for
anxiety on any score. Surely you know that I, the son of Puloma, can make
the impossible possible, and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat!"
"Gurudev, I would not dream of doubting your exemplary skills!" The
asura king heaved a deep sigh of regret. "However, I confess that I have
grave reservations regarding my own strength!"
Leaning back on his seat of honour, Usana raised his eyebrows
interrogatively at Vrshaparva.
The king bent forward: "I am deeply distressed by the disparity in wealth
between us and our arch rivals, the devas. Just think, master – Kubera, the
lord of wealth himself, is Indra's treasurer!"
"So, it is the deva’s wealth which you covet," Usana remarked thoughtfully.
"That is something which can be easily set right!"
"Gurudev, I am surprised at your confidence: as far as I can see, the only
way to redress this inequity is to declare war on the gods and impound their
wealth – and that is easier said than done!" Vrshaparva gave another sigh of
despair.
"Vrshaparva," Usana said. "Tell me one thing: who is richer – Indra or
Kubera?"
"Kubera, of course! He is the acknowledged master of all the wealth in the
universe!" the asura king declared emphatically.
"Now, let us consider this scenario: what if all Kubera's wealth found its
way into your own treasury?" Usana's eyes gleamed. "Who then would be
richer – Indra or you?"
"Master?!" Vrshaparva gasped in open-mouthed surprise.
"You would obviously be the richer of the two, Vrshaparva." Usana said
matter-of-factly.
A stir of excitement ran through the assembly of asuras. Agog with
curiosity, the rakshasas clustered round their enigmatically smiling
preceptor.
Vrshaparva himself rose to his feet to ask: "Gurudev , do you suggest that
we go to war against Kubera? Surely you can see that it would quickly
exacerbate into a full-scale war against the combined might of the devas ?"
His voice was clouded by doubt.
"Vrshaparva, war is not the solution to every predicament!" Usana gently
chided the king. "A keen intellect can render the sharpest of swords
redundant."
"You are speaking in riddles today, master," Vrshaparva complained
disconsolately.
Usana sat up with a proud gleam in his eyes. "Vrshaparva: my formidable
yogic powers will bestow Kubera's wealth on you!" Usana smiled
complacently at the excited rakshasas , who broke into a chorus of startled
gasps and cries of bewilderment.
"Yes, Vrshaparva: Usana's incomparable mystic powers will be instrumental
in depriving Kubera of his wealth." He elaborated on his nefarious scheme.
"I will harness my extraordinary yogic powers to exert complete control
over Kubera's mind." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Do you know what the
consequence of my 'hostile takeover' will be?Kubera's body will remain his,
but his mind … his mind will be mine!"
Vrshaparva broke into delighted applause. "Gurudev , your scheme is a
surefire winner! As always, I bow to your superior intellect!"
Usana arrived at Alakaapuri, Kubera's capital, to a warm welcome from the
god of wealth. Usana returned the deva’s greeting with companionable
warmth. "Kubera, although I am the preceptor of the rakshasas, I am
always keenly aware that we are all the descendants of Lord Brahma." He
smiled ingratiatingly at the deva. "Your own grandfather, Pulasthya, is
Brahma's maanasaputra: as is my father, Sage Bhrgu."
Kubera was quick to acknowledge their bonds of kinship. "Yes, yes,
Acharya ," he agreed eagerly, "we are all descended from one bloodline."
He paused and bowed to Usana. "Alakaapuri is blessed by your esteemed
presence. Please tell me how I can be of service to you."
Kubera was quick to acknowledge their bonds of kinship. "Yes, yes,
Acharya ," he agreed eagerly, "we are all descended from one bloodline."
He paused and bowed to Usana. "Alakaapuri is blessed by your esteemed
presence. Please tell me how I can be of service to you."
‘An irresistible desire has brought me here, Kubera: I am possessed by the
urge to irrefutably demonstrate that you and I are indeed kindred souls. I
aspire to prove that Usana is Kubera … and Kubera is Usana."
Kubera frowned in incomprehension. "I am totally at sea as to your
meaning …"
Usana was quick to reassure the bewildered deva : "It is very simple,
Kubera – listen to me." Usana's eyes were half-lidded as he sank into a
yogic trance. His voice assumed a hypnotic cadence. "Usana is Kubera …
Kubera is Usana … Usana is Kubera …"
Kubera's breathing stilled as he gazed into the mysterious depths of Usana's
unblinking eyes. The god of wealth was mesmerized and enslaved by the
awesome power of Usana's yogic skills. A strange glow slowly spread
across Kubera's visage and a vacuous smile appeared on his face.
He fawned over Usana and gushed: "Oh, it is indeed true, Acharya ! There
is a strong empathy between us: I can feel the unity of our psyches! We are
one and the same!"
"Yes, Kubera … I am not Usana … I am Kubera himself." Usana's magnetic
voice continued to weave its insidious spell on the god of wealth.
"Acharya," Kubera's own dazed eyes were heavy-lidded. "I have a small
wish to make …"
"Tell me, Kubera." Usana's voice was exultant. He was only too aware that
the hapless Kubera was completely in the thrall of his devious hypnotism.
Kubera was himself only on the exterior plane: he was Usana in his
innermost self!
"It is but a small wish, Acharya ," the bewitched Kubera said plaintively "I
humbly beg you to accept my wealth: the gold, the precious navarathnas,
the priceless sankha bestowed on me by Lord Brahma, the complete
treasure of Padma – in short, my wealth in all its entirety!"
"How can I deny you your 'small' wish, Kubera?" Usana crooned
triumphantly. "So be it!"
Usana extended his right hand, palm upwards, towards Kubera. With his
left hand he offered the deva the sacred kamandalam. Kubera mechanically
performed the ritualistic pouring of water, prescribed in the scriptures,
which enshrined the legitimacy of a donation.
Mission accomplished, Usana rose to make his departure. "Kubera, you are
indeed fortunate," he commended the god of wealth. "Your wish has come
true! I will take leave of you, now."
Kubera, a pathetic smile plastered on his face, urged him: "Acharya, don't
forget to take all my wealth with you."
"Kubera, don't worry: the moment you poured water from your palm into
mine, your wealth reached the safety of my treasury."
He favoured the god of wealth with a sardonic smile and walked to the exit.
As the day drew to a close in Alaakapuri, Usana's hypnotic spell weakened
and melted away into the night. The shocked Kubera realized that he had
fallen prey to the asura-guru’s formidable yogic powers. Usana's devious
plan had robbed him of all his wealth. Kubera, the richest individual in the
universe, was reduced to being a pauper: his fabled treasury was bare!
"Swami!" exhorted the furious Bhadra, Kubera's wife. "You must
immediately declare war on Vrshaparva and his scheming mentor, Usana."
Her voice rose in indignant righteousness. "Usana must be exposed as a
blatant cheat and given the punishment he rightly deserves." She urged her
husband: "You must recover the wealth!"
The chagrined Kubera shook his head. "Bhadra, that is easier said than
done. Usana may be a fraud, but his formidable yogic powers cannot be
bested using either intellectual or physical prowess." He continued
thoughtfully. "His mystic power can only be subdued by a superior spiritual
force."
"Swami," said Bhadra hesitantly. "If you yourself possessed such power,
Usana would not have succeeded in defrauding you."
"Bhadra, in my being resides an extraordinary force which surpasses the
combined yogic powers of the universe in its might!" Kubera's impassioned
voice rang through his abode as he declared: "Paramashiva's grace dwells in
my heart: He is my strength and refuge. I will seek his intercession."
The asuras erupted into boisterous celebration as Kubera's incredible
wealth poured into their treasury.
Vrshaparva, exhilarated by the turn of events, heaped honours on Usana.
"Gurudev , as the god who brought us wealth untold, it is only right that
you assume command of our treasury. You are both our preceptor and
treasurer!"
The rakshasas cheered themselves hoarse in emphatic agreement.
Usana smiled triumphantly. "Vrshaparva, my mother gave birth to me for
the sole purpose of ensuring that the asura clan categorically surpasses the
devas in every aspect. Now, you are richer than Indra – this brings us one
step closer to achieving our objective." Usana's voice brimmed with
confidence. "I will chalk out a strategy by which the war will end with our
asura soldiers inflicting a death blow on the devas.”
Lord Shiva's body convulsed in a paroxysm of rage as Kubera, his devoted
companion, recounted the tale of Usana's perfidy. Shiva's eyes widened in
fury: sparks of anger flew from the awesome Third Eye which flashed on
his darkened brow.
He tossed back his fiery copper tresses and cried: "Kubera!" His shout
echoed through the peaks and ravines of majestic Mount Kailash. "Usana
has committed an unpardonable crime: he has abused the divine mystique
of yogic power. He cannot evade punishment!"
He raised his trishul in a terrifying gesture of challenge and lifted his head
to the skies. "Usana!"
The earth trembled at Lord Shiva's thunderous roar and the waters of the
oceans frothed in agitation. Kubera cowered in awe and raised his arms in
devout worship.
"Where is Usana?" The call reached out to every corner of the cosmos.
Usana entered Vrshaparva's hall at the head of an adulating crowd of
asuras, who showered him with fragrant flowers and sang his praise. He
complacently reached out to accept the golden vessel of wine offered to him
by the rakshasa king – only to freeze in sudden concentration.
The asura-guru raised his hand in an urgent gesture for quiet. In instant
obedience, the raucous asuras fell silent. Usana frowned and strained to
catch a distant echo. His face blanched and abject terror replaced the initial
curiosity in his eyes.
"Usana! Where is Usana?"
The terrible cry, with its threat of impending doom, resounded in his being
with the ominous drum-beat of Lord Shiva's damaruka.
Usana's voice quavered as he addressed the asura king. "Vrshaparva, I am
the object of Lord Shiva's wrath!"
"Gurudev!” Vrshaparva gasped in wide-eyed alarm.
"Kubera is, apparently, a devoted companion of Lord Shiva: the god of
wealth has sought Shiva's aid."
"What do we do now, gurudev?" Vrshaparva, gripped by terror, shuddered.
"Once aroused, Rudra's wrath becomes an unstoppable tide of retribution!"
Usana abruptly came to a decision. "I must propitiate Lord Shiva in
person!"
"Gurudev , think well before …" Vrshaparva began cautiously.
"That is the only way to appease his anger, Vrshaparva," said Usana and
disappeared.
"Where is Usana?"
Usana concealed himself behind the branches of a dense thicket and peered
out cautiously.
Even while standing a safe distance away from the furious Lord, the asura-
guru shuddered at the columns of heat which blasted him.
"Where is Usana?" The thunderous query shook the heavens yet again.
Resigning himself to the impossibility of evading Trinethra’s omniscient
gaze, Usana finally mustered the courage to step forward. He stood
trembling before the Lord – in an instant, the frenzied Rudra plucked him
from the ground and swallowed him in one, incensed gulp.
Usana found himself whirling dizzily within the infinite dimensions of
Maheswara's being. The Maharudra deliberately blocked all the nine
orifices of his body, depriving Usana of any means of escape. Unable to
bear the unspeakable agony of the intense heat which licked at him with
tongues of fire, Usana summoned all the spiritual prowess at his command
and launched himself into a passionate paean of praise to Lord Shiva.
The asura-guru’s heart-felt plea for mercy moved Lord Shiva and, in
instinctive response to Usana's devout repentance, Lord Shiva ejected him
through the opening of his phallus. The shaken Usana stood cowering
before Lord Shiva, who glared at him in withering contempt and unabated
fury.
Fortunately for Usana, Goddess Parvati came to stand beside her spouse
and said: "Swami, let your anger be appeased." Her dulcet tone was balm to
Shiva's smoldering rage. "Usana has emerged from your genitals: this
makes him my son. And so, you will agree that he is now your son too!"
She placated her Lord gently. "Be merciful to him and let him live."
Lord Shiva gradually calmed down. He smiled tenderly at Parvati. "My
dearest, I will fulfill your desire. As you have accepted him as your son, I
will grant him manifold power."
He paused and turned to Usana. "Your passage to renewed life was through
the track of my sukram – henceforth you will be known as Sukra."
Parvati smiled in benign satisfaction.
Usana prostrated himself before Shiva: "Lord, I am indeed blessed!"
"Sukra," the Lord reprimanded him. "You erred grievously in your lust for
wealth. Kubera is ordained to be the master of wealth: it was patently
wrong of you to plunder his treasury. Your ill-gotten booty will be returned
to Kubera." He paused and his voice lost its harshness. "However, you did
not rob Kubera for your personal gain – your selflessness on that score
pleases me."
The Lord raised his hand in benediction over the bowed head of the asura-
guru. "Sukra, I grant you a boon: those who seek wealth through your
intercession will be granted their wish. You will be given the necessary
wealth required for the distribution of largesse to your votaries."
Sukra gazed at Lord Shiva in adoration. "Bhagavan, well do I know that
your anger is always tempered with compassion. That is why I did not
hesitate to throw myself on your mercy." He turned to Goddess Parvati. "I
am indeed blessed to have the Divine Mother of the universe as my own
beloved mother!"
"Long may you live, Sukra!" Parvati smiled at him in serene benediction.
"Son, you are fortunate indeed!" Sage Bhrgu exclaimed in astonished
delight. "You were blessed to dwell in Lord Shiva's abdomen and to emerge
as his son – yet, you have retained the body we gave you at birth!" He
continued solemnly. "It is your bounden duty to ensure that the name Sukra,
bestowed on you by Lord Shiva, resounds with glory eternally."
"Goddess Parvati herself gave you your new life!" Puloma's heart was full
as she looked at her beloved son. "May you always enjoy the grace and
mercy of Lord Shiva and Parvati!"
"Mother," said the excited Vrshaparva, who had accompanied Sukra to
Bhrgu's hermitage. "We share your happiness at our preceptor's good
fortune." But the shadow of grief dimmed the smile on the asura king's
face. "Unfortunately, we have lost the vast wealth our gurudev obtained for
us from Kubera!"
"Vrshaparva," Sage Bhrgu chided, "the wealth of wisdom, which my son
embodies, far surpasses the material wealth which you so fleetingly
possessed. As long as Sukra is with you, you own riches beyond
comparison."
"Maharshi, your words give me comfort and courage," Vrshaparva said
dutifully.
However, the asuras king's cruel disappointment at the loss of Kubera's
wealth was far from assuaged. He lamented to Sukra: "Gurudev, the wealth
which was so tantalizingly ours, has disappeared!" He sighed in regret.
"Our spies report that the devas are celebrating our loss: they revel in their
perceived sense of material and spiritual superiority." His brow darkened in
anger. "Their arrogance is hard to stomach!"
"Vrshaparva," Sukra said thoughtfully. "When the enemy is basking in
smug self-confidence - that is the right time to strike a decisive blow against
them!"
"Master, are you suggesting that we declare war on the devas ?"
"Yes," Sukra asserted. "Complacency leads to carelessness: Indra and his
cohort are wallowing in their arrogant conviction that they are superior to
the asuras in physical and yogic strength. We will exploit this pride as the
fatal chink in their armour. Prepare our army – I will determine an
auspicious time to launch our offensive."
The asura-guru rose to his full majestic height. His stentorian voice
galvanized the attentive king. "Vrshaparva – have faith in the incomparable
power of my wisdom. Gather your forces and prepare to march on Swarga
!"
Bowing to Sukra's counsel, Vrshaprava went on the offensive and attacked
Swarga . To his horror, his army was decimated and scores of rakshasas
lost their lives. The asura army retreated from the battlefield to lick its
wounds. The chagrined Sukra was aware that Vrshaparva held him to blame
for the fiasco: particularly as the so-called 'auspicious' time fixed by Sukra
had in no way worked to their advantage!
"If our soldiers continue to drop like flies, it will be next to impossible to
defeat the devas and take over their kingdom," lamented the asura king.
A sudden flash of inspiration made Sukra consider Vrshaparva thoughtfully.
His brow wrinkled in deep cogitation. "What if our soldiers did not die in
this war?" Sukra's question hung in the air.
Vrshaparva stared at his preceptor in patent bewilderment.
"Think, oh king of the asuras!" Sukra goaded him on. "What if our soldiers
could evade death on the battlefield?"
"That is beyond the realm of possibility, gurudev!" Vrshaparva humored his
guru .
"I have told you, Vrshaparva: Sukra can make the impossible possible!"
"Gurudev !" the asura king gasped in astonishment at Sukra's blatant
conviction.
"Just think, Vrshaparva: what if every asura soldier killed by the devas
came back to life time and again?!"
"The dead coming back to life?!" The wide-eyed Vrshaparva was
astounded. "How could such a miracle happen?" He shook his head. "Who
can bestow life on the dead?"
"Mrtasanjeevani can restore the dead to life," declared Sukra triumphantly.
"And I will master the science of the Mrtasanjeevani!" He was resolute. "I
will propitiate Lord Shiva with my tapas and ask him to grant me the boon
of the Mrtasanjeevani."
"Gurudev!” there was the faint stirring of hope in Vrshaparva's cry.
"I will obtain my parents' permission to commence my penance tomorrow
itself," Sukra announced his decision.
"Gurudev! We asuras are blessed to live under the protection of your iron
resolve and mental strength." Vrshaparva wondered aloud: "Mrtasanjeevani
. dead rakshasa soldiers brought back to life … " He burst into an excited
rhapsody of joy: "If you pull this off, gurudev, the goddess of victory will
be permanently enshrined in our homes!"
"Vrshaparva: a word of warning," Sukra said gravely. "On no account must
you resume your war against the devas until I return with the
Mrtasanjeevani." He paused for emphasis. "Once I am master of the
Mrtasanjeevani, the war the asuras’ wage against the devas will be the war
to end all wars!"
"Your wish is my command, gurudev . I assure you that we will go to war
against the devas – that too at an auspicious time of your own choosing -
only after you return armed with the mighty Mrtasanjeevani!"
Vrshaparva warmly clasped Sukra's hands in his own.
With his parents' blessings, Sukra set out for the forest to commence his
tapas . On their part, the asuras , under Vrshaparva, performed the
prescribed the rites to ensure the success of their preceptor's phenomenal
mission.
At this juncture, Sage Narada happened to visit the rakshasa court. The
sage commiserated with Vrshaparva on his recent defeat at the hands of the
devas. To Narada's surprise, the asura king was cheerfully indifferent to
past setbacks. In the course of the ensuing conversation, the sage cleverly
ferreted out the news of Sukra's determination to master the Mrtasanjeevani.
Highly alarmed by the implications of Sukra's quest, Narada rushed to
Swarga with his tidings of impending danger.
Indra blanched at the urgent warning carried by Sage Narada and turned
beseechingly towards Brhaspati.
The deva-guru’s eyes mirrored his own anxiety. "Mahendra, Sukra poses a
grave threat to the devas," he said somberly.
"Master, if he commands the Mrtasanjeevani, it will spell doom for us: the
devas will face certain defeat and death!" Indra was aghast at the
unfortunate turn of events.
"There is no time to be lost! Do what is necessary to disrupt Sukra's
penance," urged Brhaspati.
"I will dispatch the divine nymphs to shatter his concentration," said Indra
eagerly. "Entrapped in the coils of romance, he will throw his quest for the
Mrtasanjeevani to the winds!"
"Indra, it is you who must guard against throwing caution to the winds!"
Brhaspati gently reprimanded the king of the devas. "Think well before you
choose a plan of action."
"Gurudev …" faltered Indra.
"An impetuous solution will prove counter-productive. Anyone can come
forward with hasty schemes without considering their full implications."
Brhaspati smiled sardonically at the bewildered Indra: "The idea of sending
nymphs to seduce Sukra from the path of penance is worthy of the soldier
standing guard at your door – surely Brhaspati and Mahendra can do better
than that!"
"I am always ready to bow to your superior wisdom, gurudev!" Indra
inclined his head in respect.
"What happens if we send the divine nymphs?" Brhaspati asked. "Let us
assume that their irresistible charm and captivating beauty exerts its spell
over Sukra and his penance is disrupted …"
"But, master, isn't that exactly what we aim to do?!" Indra frowned in
puzzlement.
"Yes, Indra: but this tactic would only gain us temporary respite – it would
not prevent Sukra from resuming his tapas!" He paused meaningfully.
"What we need is a permanent solution."
"What do you suggest, master?"
"Let us send your daughter, Jayanthi, to Sukra."
"Gurudev!" Indra was aghast at this proposal.
"Listen to me, Indra – this would solve many of our problems at one go."
Brhaspati elaborated on his argument. "Jayanthi is an exquisitely beautiful
girl. If Sukra succumbs to her charms and accepts her as his wife, what will
happen?"
"What will happen?" Indra was at a loss. "Enlighten me, master," he said.
"Sukra will be your son-in-law – and, of course, a son-in-law will obviously
be obliged to support his father-in-law!"
"What a deliciously devious plan, gurudev ! Our foe will become our
natural ally!" Indra was rapturous. But, there was a niggling doubt in his
mind. "Master, what if Sukra does not agree to marry Jayanthi?"
"Then we lose nothing: Jayanthi will merely have accomplished the task
you intended to assign to the nymphs!" Brihaspati smiled confidently.
"Mahendra, I assure you that Sukra will marry Jayanthi. And, once they are
abandoned by Sukra, the asuras will be orphans, to all intents and
purposes!"
"I will send Jayanthi to Sukra at once!" There was a palpable excitement in
Indra's words.
"On no account must Sukra, the rakshasas’ evil genius, complete his
penance!"
Her father's urgent words echoed in Jayanthi's ears. "Your mission to disrupt
his tapas is crucial to the very survival of the deva clan: you must succeed
at any cost!"
Jayanthi stood at a distance, transfixed by the beauty of the youth seated in
meditation under the spreading branches of a tree. Her lips parted in an
involuntary smile of admiration.
'It is obvious that my father has never set eyes on Sukra,' she thought, 'he
would never think to use the adjective 'evil' to describe such a handsome
man!'
She drank in his beauty: A comely face, enhanced by a glowing complexion
… broad chest … rounded shoulders … long hands. She was irresistibly
drawn to the magnetism of the wide eyes, half-hidden by the heavy eyelids,
and emphatically framed by the arch of thick eyebrows above.
'Even the heavens cannot boast of such handsomeness!' she thought. Then,
she shook her head to clear her mind and recalled Indra's grave exhortation:
"My dear, keep this in mind – if that wicked man succeeds in obtaining the
Mrtasanjeevani, we will all be in dire peril." Her father had continued
emphatically: "Exploit your beauty and charm to seduce him. I give you
complete freedom to exercise your ingenuity: either make him your
husband or ensure that he becomes a depraved voluptuary. Use your
discretion – just do whatever is necessary to disrupt his tapas – Sukra must
not obtain the Mrtasanjeevani!"
‘Seduce him … make him your husband … ensure that he becomes a
depraved voluptuary . Sukra must not obtain the Mrtasanjeevani …'
Indra's injunctions grated harshly on her ears and Jayanthi impatiently
banished them from her mind. Her feet instinctively made their way
towards Sukra. Her eyes hungrily roved over him like caressing hands. He
radiated youthful vigor. His single-minded concentration mirrored his iron
resolve. Drops of perspiration, like tiny dew-drenched blossoms, covered
his body.
Jayanthi heaved a shuddering sigh and surrendered to the spell of Sukra's
magnetism. ‘Well,' she thought, with a defiant shrug of her shoulder, 'my
father has given me 'complete freedom' in this situation.'
Jayanthi made her choice: she decided to accept Sukra as her husband.
However, she would not be instrumental in disrupting his penance. On the
contrary, she would do everything in her power to ensure that he mastered
the Mrtasanjeevani. What a coup that would be for her would- be spouse!
Having resolved on her course of action, Indra's daughter dismissed all
thoughts of her father, and his commands, from her mind. She bent tenderly
over Sukra, holding up the edge of her saree to gently fan his perspiring
body. But Jayanthi abruptly realized her error: the fluttering of her garment
was definitely a seductive distraction! It was service that Sukra required
from her – not sensuous temptation!
She quickly dropped her saree and looked searchingly about the place: the
swaying fronds of a banana tree caught her attention. She eagerly ran to
pick two long leaves and hurried back to her station. She held one wide
frond over Sukra's head, as a shield from the heat of the glaring sun, while
the other leaf became an improvised fan with which she sent a cool breeze
his way.
Sukra remained serenely immersed in his tapas, oblivious to the devoted
ministrations which eased his path.
Every morning, Jayanthi swept clean the ground round the meditating
youth; she then sprinkled the bare earth with water from a nearby mountain
stream and made it her canvas for the auspicious designs which she drew
using pollen gathered painstakingly from multi-hued flowers. Collecting
pure water in a cup fashioned from a lotus leaf, Jayanthi dipped the edge of
her saree in it and sponged Sukra's body. She faithfully gathered a pile of
fresh fruits and edible roots, in the slim hope that he would remember to
take some nourishment for his body. At nightfall, she slept on the bare
ground before him, pillowing her head in her hands.
The days passed: Sukra remained immersed in his penance, while Jayanthi
continued to lavish her devoted service on him. They were united in their
single-mindedness of purpose: Sukra's sole objective was his tapas;
Jayanthi's only goal was unswerving devotion to Sukra.
"Swami!" Sachidevi's call to her husband reflected her anxiety. "Do you
realize that it is quite a long while since Jayanthi left on her mission?"
"Devi,” Indra replied with a wry smile, "I can give you the exact duration
of our daughter's absence – right down to the last minute!"
"I am worried about Jayanthi …"
Indra gently interrupted his wife. "Jayanthi will be back, my dear." He
paused and frowned. "I was confident when I sent her to disrupt Sukra's
penance in the place of the apsaras. However, I must confess that this
inordinate delay worries me too." Indra consoled Sachidevi. "I have
summoned Acharya Brhaspati. He will discern the reason for the delay with
his yogic power."
"Mahendra!" Brhaspati entered Indra's private chamber.
"Pranam, gurudev!" Indra respectfully rose to his feet and welcomed his
preceptor.
Without preamble, the worried king of the devas rushed into the reason for
his summons. "Master, time flies by, but Jayanthi is yet to return. Sachi is
anxious about her. I would like to know whether our daughter has
accomplished her mission or …" his voice faltered, "has she met with some
unknown danger?"
Brhaspati seated himself and smiled comfortingly at the parents. "Rest
assured that Jayanthi will return – whether victorious or vanquished! Defeat
is the only danger she faces." He continued reasonably. ‘As we all know,
Sukra is no ordinary ascetic: he is possessed of such power that he emerged
alive from Lord Shiva's stomach! Breaking such a renowned mystic's
concentration is no easy task: it requires time and patience."
Sachidevi fretfully shrugged aside this explanation. "All this is irrelevant to
me, gurudev … I am extremely anxious about my little daughter." She gave
her husband a rather accusatory glance. "This task should have been
assigned to the nymphs – not to Jayanthi!"
"Indrani," Brhaspati placated the distraught mother, "have courage. Let us
not underestimate Jayanthi's ingenuity and pluck."
He turned to the king of the devas . "Mahendra, let us put aside the matter
of Sukra and Jayanthi for a while and direct our attention to the asuras
without Sukra to bolster their confidence with his guidance, they are as
vulnerable as they will ever be! This is the right time to mount an attack on
the rakshasas ."
Indra nodded thoughtfully in agreement.
"The asura army is demoralized and weak at present: I will determine the
auspicious day and time to declare war!" Brhaspati was categorical in his
stand.
A worried Vrshaparva mulled over Sukra's continued absence, with his
ministers adding their voices of concern to his anxiety.
Their somber deliberation was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a
breathless asura spy who saluted the king hastily before bursting out with
his momentous report: "Oh king, the gods are making preparations to
declare war on us. They only await Brhaspati's decision as to the auspicious
time in which to launch their attack!"
Vrshaparva's court erupted into a chaos of excited voices and loud
arguments.
One of the agitated ministers shouted: "Yet another example of those
ruthless devas’ guile! The accursed Indra is deliberately taking advantage of
our gurudev’s absence!"
Another minister inserted a note of caution: "Let us not forget that our
gurudev emphatically warned us not to wage war against the gods in his
absence ."
The spy broke in with his warning: "My lord, we need not wage war on
them – they will attack us in any case!"
Vrshaparva called for order. An expectant hush enveloped the hall as the
asuras turned to their king for his decision. "Our master advised us not to
wage war on the gods." He paused meaningfully. "However, he did not give
us any standing instructions regarding self-defence – he did not counsel us
to refrain from retaliation in the face of an unprovoked attack."
His voice rose in exhortation to his cohorts. "Self-defence is a must for
survival! Let us show these gods what we are made of! Make preparations
for war!"
The asura forces met the attacking deva army head-on and halted their
advance. A colossal battle ensued. True to Sukra's dire prediction, the devas
set on the hapless rakshasas and subjected them to wholesale slaughter. The
asura 's woeful lack of combat strategy, in the absence of their preceptor,
was pitifully evident. Vrshaparva was caught on the horns of a painful
dilemma: to stand firm was to court certain defeat … to retreat was to invite
pursuit and complete rout. In either case, destruction and death stared him
in the face!
In a last resort to save his army from complete annihilation, the rakshasa
king rushed to Sage Bhrgu's hermitage. Vrshaparva explained the dire
predicament of the asura forces in their son, Sukra's, absence. Lamenting
that his soldiers were dying like flies, the king beseeched Bhrgu and
Puloma to come to their aid. Arriving on the battlefield with Bhrgu's
permission, Puloma used the awesome power of her chastity to immobilize
the deva army. The exultant rakshasas then fell upon the helpless gods and
slaughtered them with impunity.
Indra was enraged by the massacre of the devas in their frozen trances. On
Brhaspati's advice, the king of the gods rushed to Lord Vishnu and pleaded
for his intercession. Sri Mahavishnu appeared instantaneously on the field
of battle. Vishnu immediately perceived that the devas would remain locked
in their trance-like state until Puloma was neutralized – and the only way to
nullify her formidable power was to kill her. Left with no other alternative,
Lord Vishnu let fly his discus, Sudarsana , and severed Puloma's head. At
the instant of her death, the gods regained their mobility and resumed their
battle with the asuras.
Vrshaparva rushed to Bhrgu's hermitage with the tragic news of Puloma's
death at Lord Vishnu's hands. The enraged sage stormed to the war field. He
tenderly joined his wife's severed head to her trunk. Drawing upon the
powers accumulated through years of rigorous penance, Bhrgu restored
Puloma to life. Puloma touched her husband's feet reverentially and stood
before him, whole.
Sage Bhrgu now turned to the astounded Vishnu and burst out in fury: "You
beheaded my wife without paying her the respect due to her sex: you have
committed the unpardonable sin of killing a woman!" The sage's voice
crescendoed: "I will not let you evade justice! This is my curse: you will be
born on earth as a mortal and will endure the agony of pain, separation and
grief!"
Bhrgu's curse banished the devas’ euphoria regarding their upper hand in
the ongoing battle with the asuras. Indra quickly realized the impossibility
of their winning the war and wisely sounded the retreat.
Vrshaparva prostrated himself at the feet of Puloma and Bhrgu and
expressed his deep gratitude to them for the asuras’ deliverance.
"Indra will not dare to attack the asuras in the near future!" Puloma
counselled the rakshasa king. "Use this intervening time to strengthen your
army and await our son's return with the Mrtasanjeevani."
Jayanthi awoke with a start: had someone disturbed her sleep? She turned
on her side and looked at Sukra – he remained immersed in his penance,
oblivious to hunger and thirst as usual. She wondered how long his tapas
would continue: however long it was, she was determined to persevere in
her devoted service.
As the first flush of dawn streaked the sky, heralding the sunrise, Jayanthi
rose. Again, her gaze was drawn irresistibly towards Sukra. In her adoring
eyes, the radiance emanating from his penance surpassed the sun's
brilliance.
Jayanthi made her way to the gurgling mountain stream. She smiled in
pleasure at the thought of the familiar, daily routine which stretched before
her: sprinkling water on the ground round Sukra, drawing the auspicious
patterns with flower pollen, shading him from the glaring sun, fanning him
with banana fronds … Jayanthi contentedly entered the cool water for her
bath.
Suddenly, a distinctive sound broke the silence of the tranquil forest – it
was the drum-beat of Lord Shiva's damaruka. Sukra's inert body
instinctively throbbed in rhythm with its mesmerizing cadence and his long-
unmoving eyelids fluttered.
The insistent beat of the damaruka faded into divine silence …
"Sukra!" The resonant call penetrated his psyche like a drum-roll of
thunder. Sukra emerged from the depths of his penance and opened his
eyes.
"Sukra, my son!" The voice brimmed with affection.
Lord Shiva stood before Sukra's delighted eyes. The asura-guru prostrated
himself before the Lord whose face was wreathed in a radiant smile.
"Sukra, I am here in response to your penance," Lord Shiva declared. "Tell
me what you desire."
Sukra stood before the Lord with hands folded in reverence. "Bhagavan!”
Eyes overflowing with tears of joy, he gazed adoringly at his favourite god.
"Grant me the gift of the Mrtasanjeevani."
"So be it, Sukra!" Shiva smiled magnanimously and beckoned him close.
"Come: I will impart to you the Mrtasanjeevani mantra.”
Sukra obediently approached Shiva – hands folded in respect, he closed his
eyes in devotion and inclined his right ear towards the Lord. A tidal wave of
immense mystic power poured into Sukra's being, as an awesome silence
enveloped his heart and soul with a fullness of extraordinary significance.
"My son," Shiva said, "the divine Mrtasanjeevani is now yours to
command. I charge you – ensure that its secret remains undisclosed to
womankind." The Lord raised his hand in magnanimous benediction and
said, "May you prosper!" before he disappeared.
Sukra stood frozen in awe, overwhelmed with gratitude towards Lord Shiva
for his unstinting munificence.
Emerging from his trance, Sukra looked about him in amazement. He took
in the well-tended ground, decorated with glowing designs executed with
the pollen of multi-hued blossoms. He frowned in puzzlement. Whose
handiwork was this? The smoothened earth was obviously the result of long
months of labor. Had someone been serving him during his tapas ? His
curiosity was aroused – who was this mysterious person and what could be
the reason for this evident devotion?
As if in answer to his question, the dulcet tinkling of anklets reached his
ears. Sukra turned in the direction of the sound. A narrow footpath lay
before him – someone had beaten a rough track through the wild brush with
their constant passage to-and-fro in that direction. The sweet music of the
anklets grew louder and then came to an abrupt halt!
Sukra gazed in startled surprise at the figure which stood before him – it
was a beautiful maiden! Her dripping clothes indicated that she was
returning from a bath in the nearby stream. Her damp body glowed like
flame behind a curtain of snow. The green creeper twisted about the tree
beside her lost its sheen, and looked desiccated, beside the glowing
freshness of her exquisitely lovely, lissome body. Dark hair rippled down to
her knees in lustrous waves, from whose ends sparkling dewdrops of water
dripped to the ground. Her elongated eyes seemed to reach to her ears in
soft caress, their dark irises darting to and fro like startled fish. Those wide,
fearless eyes held Sukra's own in an outpouring of desire and devotion. She
held a lotus-leaf cup in her hands.
Sukra was mesmerized by this lovely apparition and irresistibly drawn to
her. Her incomparable beauty bound him with invisible, unbreakable
chains. ‘This is no ordinary beauty,' he thought, ‘there is a divinity in her
charm! Who can she be?'
The jingle of her anklets was the only answer to his unspoken question as
she walked towards him with the graceful glide of a swan, her voluptuous
hips swaying to the even rhythm of her gait. The anklets grew silent and she
stood before Sukra. A sudden flush spread over her damask cheeks and she
lowered her gaze in self-conscious embarrassment. Abruptly, she stooped
and gently poured the water from her lotus-leaf cup over his feet: in a
poignant gesture of reverence, she dipped the slender fingers of her right
hand into the water which had bathed his feet and sprinkled it over her own
head. She slowly rose to her feet and met his eyes.
"Who are you?" the astounded Sukra asked.
Her full lips, glistening with the deep-red of ripe ivy gourds, parted to
reveal sparkling-white teeth shaped like fleshy pomegranate seeds.
"Jayanthi …" her voice was a whisper.
Sukra raised his eyebrows in interrogation.
"Indra is my father," she revealed, "and Sachidevi is my mother."
Sukra's mouth fell open at her words. "Indra's daughter!" he gasped.
"Yes," she asserted. "My father sent me to disrupt your penance … but,
from the very moment of our first encounter, my heart and body melted and
merged into one entity of immeasurable love for you. I have dedicated
myself, heart and soul, to your service for all eternity." She gazed adoringly
at him.
"With or without my conscious volition, I have been the recipient of your
devoted care – this makes me indebted to you. What boon do you want
from me, Jayanthi?" There was an underlying note of triumph in Sukra's
words. After all, the daughter of Indra himself was offering her services to
him! It was a coup indeed for the rakshasas !
"I have openly declared my love for you," replied Jayanthi. She gazed into
his eyes. ‘Accept me as your devoted wife."
Sukra looked at her in silence. His thoughts were in a whirl as he worked
out the possibilities and choices before him. He was Puloma's son – he was
the preceptor of the asuras ! He lived by his own rules and principles. It
was impossible for him to accept Jayanthi as his wife: nor was it possible
for him to deny her the boon he had promised.
'No!' he thought to himself, 'I will not go back on my word!'
Sukra, past-master at stratagem, and determined contender against all odds,
had fashioned certain guiding principles to help him through trying,
unavoidable circumstances – his 'Sukra Neethi,' or Sukra's moral code of
conduct. He now cleverly resorted to this unique code to resolve his present
dilemma: he would accept Jayanthi as his companion – not as his wife!
Sukra smiled at Jayanthi and said, "I cannot accept you as my wife .
however, I am willing to make you my companion. I assure you that this
position is, for all practical purposes, in no way inferior to that of a lawfully
wedded wife."
"Swami …" Jayanthi said hesitantly.
"If you accept my proposal," Sukra continued persuasively, "we will live
together happily as husband and wife for ten years. During this decade, we
will live a private life which will be completely invisible to both devas and
rakshasas." Sukra locked eyes with Jayanthi. "Are you willing to be my
companion?" he asked.
Jayanthi's own eyes melted in adoration. "It was my deep love for you
which made me serve you and pray for the fulfillment of your penance."
She sighed and continued. "I was confident that you would accept me as
your wife. But, now …" She remained silent for a moment. Then, Jayanthi
lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders in resolve. ‘As I am
completely enamored with you, I cannot turn down your offer." She blushed
and held out her hands to him. "Please … take me!"
Sukra smiled triumphantly. He nodded to Jayanthi and opened his arms
wide in invitation. Like a vigorous river running to meet the ocean for the
first time, Jayanthi rushed into Sukra's arms and encircled his neck with her
clinging hands. Her wet clothes fanned the flames of passion in Sukra's hot
body. He drew her even closer into his tight embrace.
In the next instant, Sukra and Jayanthi merged into one single entity and
were lost to the view of all eyes.
"Mahendra!" Brhaspati emerged from his mystic trance to address the king
of the devas. "Your daughter, Jayanthi, has apparently succeeded in her
mission! I saw her merge into Sukra's embrace before they both
disappeared. For ten long years, as they pursue their conjugal life, they will
remain invisible to everyone. Using my mind's eye, this is the only glimpse
I could catch of her."
"Gurudev, does this mean that Sukra's penance was disrupted?" Indra asked
eagerly.
"I think we can safely assume that, Mahendra," Brhaspati nodded
thoughtfully. "If Jayanthi had not succeeded in her mission to seduce him,
obviously Sukra would not have accepted her." He smiled complacently. "I
think we can afford to relax now."
"Gurudev, what does this portend for my daughter's future?" Sachidevi
asked anxiously.
"It is certain that Sukra has accepted your daughter: I saw them disappear
together with my own eyes." He reassured the mother. "Sukra is an ethical
intellectual: he will undoubtedly ensure your daughter's happiness as his
consort."
Brihaspati paused to reflect. "Sukra is well aware that the asuras would on
no account be able to digest the news of their preceptor's marriage to the
daughter of their arch enemy, Indra. As far as I can surmise, this is the
reason for Sukra's decade-long voluntary disappearance. He hopes to delude
the asuras into believing that he continues to perform his penance to obtain
the Mrtasanjeevani."
Brhaspati's logical explanation placated Indra. The king of the devas turned
to his wife with a confident smile. "Sachi, my dear, don't worry: your clever
daughter will bring Sukra to you as your son-in-law!"
Sachi, her fears dispelled, smiled back at her husband and made her
departure. Indra turned to address Brhaspati, but held his tongue on seeing
the deva-guru deep in a reverie.
After a few moments of profound thought, Brhaspati said: "Mahendra,
Sukra and Jayanthi will remain invisible for a period of ten years. Think of
the implications!" His excitement was palpable. "For one, long decade, the
rakshasas will languish without their preceptor's guidance. They will be
particularly vulnerable during this period. We must exploit this situation to
our advantage." Brhaspati gave Indra a meaningful look.
"Shall we declare war on them again, gurudev ?" Indra asked eagerly.
Brhaspati smiled wryly. "Mahendra, it has already been categorically
proved that we cannot defeat the asuras, even in Sukra's absence. Sri
Mahavishnu will be unable to help us as long as Sage Bhrgu and Puloma
are ready to extend their aid to the rakshasas ."
"You are right … I forgot the existing circumstances in the heat of
excitement."
"It is not a battle of weapons which we will wage against the mentor- less
asuras ." Brhaspati's voice exuded confidence. "It will be a battle of wits!
"What does that mean, gurudev?" the bewildered Indra frowned.
"We are aware that Sukra has been indoctrinating the asuras with his creed
of hatred towards the devas . The time is now ripe to counteract his
teachings," Brhaspati said complacently.
"And how do you suggest we go about that, gurudev ?" Indra asked.
"During Sukra's absence, we shall ensure that the asuras receive a new
course of instruction!" Brhaspati chuckled softly. "We shall inculcate in
them the belief that the devas excel the asuras in all aspects: morally,
intellectually and physically. We will make them accept that it is only right
to acknowledge the inherent superiority of the gods and resign themselves
to respecting and serving them. We will convince them that it is
unconscionable to even consider waging war on the gods." Brhaspati's eyes
gleamed in anticipation. "We will indoctrinate them systematically . they
will be conditioned to accept their subservience. We will instill in them
mandatory loyalty towards us!"
"Your idea is incredible, gurudev. ” Indra paused doubtfully. "But will they
submit to our persuasion?"
"Mahendra, it will not be Brhaspati or Indra who educates them – their
instructor will be none other than Sukra himself."
"Sukra?!" Indra gasped in open-mouthed surprise.
"Yes, Indra, Sukra himself." Brhaspati's eyes twinkled. "Brhaspati, as Sukra
himself - I will be his double!"
"You will be Sukra?!" Indra remained clueless.
"It is pure sorcery, Indra: look!" To Indra's astonishment, Brhaspati
vanished from the room. In his place Sukra reclined on the couch.
The startled king of the gods jumped up and stared at his companion in awe.
"This is my plan, Mahendra," Brhaspati explained. "I intend to join
Vrshaparva's court by impersonating Sukra. In the coming decade of
Sukra's absence, I will indoctrinate the asuras and convert them into willing
servants of the gods." Brhaspati's tones echoed confidently in the chamber.
"Gurudev, your plan is magnificent!" Indra exclaimed. "But, what if
Vrshaparva, trusting in your mastery of the Mrtasanjeevani, compels you to
devise an offensive against the devas ?" Indra frowned as he voiced his
doubt.
Brhaspati, in Sukra's guise, laughed out loud. "Simple, Mahendra – I will
assure the asura king that I have received the mantra from Lord Shiva. I
will also tell him that, in order to achieve complete mastery over the
mantra, and make it truly effective, I need many years of practice in its
deployment." He smiled. "Of course, I will impress upon the rakshasas that
this is Lord Shiva's immutable will!"
He turned briskly to Indra. "Mahendra, leave everything to me. Rest assured
that, in the near future, the asuras will be your loyal servants and their
preceptor will be your obedient son-in- law!"
"I salute your unparalleled intellect, gurudev!" Indra paused in sudden
consternation and exclaimed: "But, what about your voice?!"
"I will first visit my parents and bring them up to date on the developments
regarding the Mrtasanjeevani. After receiving their blessings, I will proceed
to Vrshaparva's court." Brhaspati's voice was now a perfect imitation of
Sukra's authoritarian tone.
Indra guffawed in admiration.
The unsuspecting Vrshaparva welcomed the imposter with open arms. The
entire company of asuras rose and bowed to the false Sukra.
"Sukra!" "Sukra!" "Sukra!" The exultant cry echoed through the halls and
corridors of the rakshasa court.
The asura king gave the imposter the highest seat of honour in the durbar
and reverentially washed his feet. Each of the asuras present came forward
in turn to dip their hands into the bowl containing the used water and
sprinkled it over their own heads.
"Gurudev!” exclaimed the joyous Vrshaparva. "You have returned
triumphantly from your penance. We are indeed fortunate: death has lost its
hold over the asura clan!"
The court erupted in raucous celebration.
The imposter rose to his feet and signaled for silence. "Yes, Lord
Paramashiva has lavished his blessings on your guru." He smiled
triumphantly. "He has bestowed on me the Mrtasanjeevani mantra !"
Wild cheers and applause greeted his words.
He waited for silence to be restored and continued: "However, Paramashiva
has also given me clear strictures on its use." He paused to look gravely at
his attentive audience. "Unless the mantra is first practiced the prescribed
number of times, it will lose its efficacy: I will be unable to restore the dead
to life."
A murmur of alarm ran through the assembly.
The false Sukra continued: "Lord Shiva himself has ordained that the
mantra must be practiced uninterruptedly for ten years before it is put to
use: only then will it be purified and prove effective."
Gasps of surprise, mingled with cries of disappointment, greeted his words.
"Ten years!" Vrshaparva was aghast. "Gurudev, this means we cannot fight
the gods for a decade!"
"Do not be disappointed, Vrshaparva," the imposter placated the asura king.
"Patience has its own reward. When we do fight the devas , I will be able to
keep death away from our people."
"But … Ten years! … Gurudev . to wait for ten years!"
"Vrshaparva, ten years is not too long: it will pass in the blink of an eye!"
The false Sukra smiled enigmatically. ‘And, I assure you, we will put that
decade to good use: I have a special course of instruction planned for our
clan."
As the imposter assured Vrshaparva, the ten years did pass: not in a flash,
but at their own plodding pace.
Meanwhile, the real Sukra had enjoyed the pleasure of Jayanthi's
companionship to the full and was ready to return to his old life. Jayanthi,
torn apart by the anguish of her separation from her beloved Sukra, wept
like a child. Sukra comforted her as best he could and gently sent her on her
way to Amaravati, Indra's capital.
Sukra then made his own way to Vrshaparva's court.
The durbar hall was filled to capacity with rakshasas. The false Sukra was
ensconced in his customary place of honour on the dais.
"Gurudev,” Vrshaparva respectfully drew his preceptor's attention to the
passage of the years. "Our decade of waiting is over at last. Are you now
ready to deploy the power of the Mrtasanjeevani in our defense?"
Before the imposter could respond, a sudden commotion at the entrance
caught the court's attention – Sukra strode into the hall, kamandalam in
hand. The assembly of asuras froze in amazement at the unbelievable
apparition. There was pin-drop silence in the court.
Sukra stood before Vrshaparva, glaring at the imposter.
The asura king, in his turn, turned to address the false Sukra seated beside
him. "Gurudev, who is this interloper?"
"Vrshaparva!" thundered the real Sukra. "Do you not recognize me, your
own preceptor?"
"He appears to be an imposter, Vrshaparva," the false Sukra gravely replied.
"Imposter?! Me?!" exclaimed Sukra. "Whoever you are, be assured that I
see through your disguise. I will soon deduce the nefarious motive behind
your impersonation!"
The furious Vrshaparva intervened and shouted: "You – shut your insolent
mouth! How dare you cast doubts on our revered gurudev ! Do you know
that he has obtained the priceless boon of the Mrtasanjeevani from Lord
Shiva himself? Stop your nonsensical blathering at once: your tricks will
not work here!"
"What?!" gasped Sukra. "This imposter claims to have mastered the
Mrtasanjeevani?! Do not fall for his lies, Vrshaparva! Whoever he is, he is
misleading the asura clan for his own sinister purpose. Hear me: I am
Sukra, the son of Sage Bhrgu and Puloma."
Vrshaparva had had enough of this. "Soldiers!" the irate asura king
commanded. "Throw this imposter out of the court and exile him from our
kingdom." He turned to Sukra. "As you are in the guise of our gurudev , I
will spare your lowly life – this is but a mark of the great respect in which
we hold our master."
The imposter seated beside him nodded in head in benign appreciation of
Vrshaparva's orders.
Four rakshasa soldiers approached Sukra threateningly.
"Stop right there!" roared Sukra. "It was I who mentored you – it was for
your benefit that I underwent the rigour of tapas and obtained the
Mrtasanjeevani. And now, you dare to insult me and question my
credentials." His voice rose ominously. "This is my curse on the asura clan:
you will lose wars for all eternity!"
Sukra's furious voice reverberated through the hall as he stomped out of the
court.
"The decade has passed," Brhaspati was back in Amaravati to meet Indra.
"Sukra has returned!"
"Jayanthi has also returned, gurudev!" Indra interrupted him excitedly.
"However, Sukra has obtained the Mrtasanjeevani!" His face was
crestfallen. "My daughter fell under the spell of his personality: she made
him her lover but failed to disrupt his penance."
"Mahendra, Sukra made his appearance at Vrshaparva's court. Fortunately,
the asuras continued to believe that I was their true preceptor. Vrshaparva
accused Sukra of being an imposter and banished him from the kingdom."
He continued thoughtfully. "However, once Vrshaparva calls upon me to
implement the Mrtasanjeevani, I will be exposed as the real imposter."
"You will be in grave danger, master! What do we do now?" asked the
alarmed Indra.
"Mahendra, I have already done what needs to be done." Brhaspati smiled
complacently. Indra looked questioningly at his preceptor.
"I have discarded the guise of Sukra for good," laughed Brhaspati. "I will
not enter the asura kingdom again!"
As the glaring absence of their supposed preceptor extended into days,
Vrshaparva suspected that something was wrong. Gradually it dawned on
the asura king that he had been the victim of a hoax: the imposter had
mentored them to look up to the devas! The rakshasas were deeply
ashamed of their gullibility: they had been fooled by the imposter for ten
long years and had readily swallowed the pro-deva propaganda he had
dispensed in the name of education! They broke into cries of self-
recrimination for their foolish rejection of their real guru .
Vrshaparva cringed at the recollection of his harsh treatment of Sukra. He
called an urgent council and decided to lead a delegation to beg Sukra's
forgiveness and plead for his return.
On their arrival at Sage Bhrgu's hermitage, the incensed Sukra harshly
reprimanded Vrshaparva and his entourage of eminent asuras . However,
Bhrgu and Puloma interceded and pacified their son.
Puloma reminded Sukra: "Son, these are tricks played by the gods. It is the
devas at whom you should direct your anger. Remember, they instigated Sri
Mahavishnu himself to behead me."
"Gurudev, we beg your forgiveness for our sins of ignorance," Vrshaparva
pleaded in abject repentance. "We are sorely in need of your guidance, as
we plan our vengeance on the gods who were the cause of your mother's
beheading." The asura king humbly bowed before Sukra. "Master, please
accept your position as our preceptor once more and revoke your curse."
The placated Sukra nodded in assent.
Nirvikalpananda paused and smiled at his entranced disciples. "And that is
the story of Sukra. How was it? Did you enjoy listening to it?"
"Oh yes, master!" exclaimed Shivananda. "It was non-stop excitement from
start to finish!"
"Master!" Sadananda chimed in agreement. "What fascinating twists and
turns – it was absolutely enthralling!"
"There is more to come," Nirvikalpananda assured them. "Sukra's life is
filled with extraordinary developments and thrilling events: undoubtedly,
you will continue to be fascinated by the coming segments!"
"Master, Sukra sends Jayanthi away at the end of their ten years of
companionship – whom does he marry?" asked the curious Chidananda.
"Sukra married a young woman, Urjaswathi, the daughter of Priyavratha
and Suroopa. By her, Sukra had two daughters, Devayaani and Araja, and
four sons. Once his sons attained the appropriate ages, Sukra appointed
them the officiating priests of the rakshasa clan."
He paused to survey his attentive disciples. "Sukra's daughter, Araja,
demonstrated a philosophical bent of mind right from childhood. Once she
attained womanhood, in accordance with her inclination, her parents
granted her permission to engage in penance in the nearby forest. This
forest belonged to the realm of King Danda, son of Ikshwaaku.
"One day, King Danda, while on a hunting expedition, happened to come
across Araja, engaged in solitary meditation. Unable to resist the allure of
her beauty, the wicked king fell on the young girl and molested her. The
outraged Araja cried out to her father. Hearing his daughter's distressed call
for help, Sukra rushed to the spot and heard the account of her tragic
defilement.
"Incensed by Danda's crime, Sukra pronounced a horrible curse: within five
days, a rain of fire would completely destroy Danda's kingdom, which
would later be transformed into a dense forest. Sukra's curse came to pass:
an incessant shower of flame rained down on Danda's realm – the
conflagration reduced the kingdom to ashes. In the course of time, a dense
forest rose from the ruins and was given the name Dhandakaaranya –
derived from ‘Danda.'"
"So, it was Sukra who was instrumental in the rise of the Dhandaka forest!"
exclaimed Sadananda.
"Yes," said the master, "Sukra was a formidable personality who could
bestow boons, and pronounce curses, to great effect. I will now tell you how
he put the Mrtasanjeevani mantra to use."
Nirvikalpananda picked up the threads of his narrative once more.
"Sukra burnt with the desire to avenge his mother's beheading by Lord
Vishnu, at the goading of the devas. Confident in the power of the
Mrtasanjeevani, he constantly incited the asuras to wage war on the gods.
Sukra immediately restored to life the asuras who perished in battle. The
asura army was now, for all intents and purposes, invincible. The gleeful
rakshasas, immune to death, attacked the gods without provocation: war
had become a sport to them.
"The devas were alarmed at the state of affairs. Indra and Brhaspati
contemplated their next move… "
"Gurudev,” Indra's voice was grave. "At this rate, we cannot hold out much
longer against the demons – we are helpless in the face of their triumph
over death."
"The Mrtasanjeevani is the cause of our sorry plight," Brhaspati sighed.
"Our numbers are steadily declining."
Indra echoed his preceptor's sigh. "You are right, gurudev . Please show us
a way out of this predicament. How can we counteract the Mrtasanjeevani?"
"Mahendra, it is impossible to counteract the effects of the Mrtasanjeevani,"
Brhaspati emphasized. "It is a blessing from Lord Shiva himself: there is no
antidote for it!"
"Then we have no choice but to surrender the kingdom of Swarga to the
rakshasas and go into voluntary exile in the dense forests!" Indra lamented
in despair.
"Every disease has its remedy: likewise, every problem has a solution."
Brhaspati reprimanded him gently. "It is up to us to use the power of our
intellects to find one."
"I implore you, find a way out of this peril!"
Brhaspati said thoughtfully. "There is only one way out: we must acquire
the Mrtasanjeevani mantra for ourselves."
‘Acquire the Mrtasanjeevani?!" Indra was wide-eyed in wonder. "That
would make any future war a sword for a sword and a mace for a mace!"
"Exactly: a stalemate! Wonderful thought!" Brhaspati smiled in agreement.
"Sukra obtained the Mrtasanjeevani from Lord Shiva through rigorous
penance." Indra said excitedly. "Now, you will emulate Sukra and achieve
mastery over the mantra ! Am I right, gurudev ?" Indra asked hopefully.
"Not so fast, Indra! One can undertake penance – but no one can predict
Lord Shiva's reaction to it." Brhaspati sighed. "From Lord Shiva's point of
view, Brhaspati is certainly not Sukra!" He paused to explain: "Mahendra,
we must remember that the divine couple on Mount Kailash consider Sukra
to be their own son."
"Gurudev, it is up to you to ensure that our ‘wonderful thought' materializes
into a wonderful solution." There was a note of challenge in Indra's words.
"At present, there are only two masters of the Mrtasanjeevani: Lord Shiva
himself – and Sukra." Brhaspati locked eyes with Indra. "In my estimation,
it would be easier to obtain the secret of the mantra from Sukra." The deva-
guru silenced Indra's incipient question with an abrupt gesture and
continued: "You are going to ask me how I expect Sukra to pass on the
secret of the Mrtasanjeevani to us, the asuras’ sworn enemies. Remember,
Mahendra, a true guru is constrained to pass on all his knowledge to an
intelligent disciple who serves him with unswerving devotion." Brhaspati
paused meaningfully. "Whatever else Sukra may be, he is an exemplary
guru in the truest sense of the word …"
"Then, someone should approach Sukra as his disciple …" Indra felt a
rising sense of hope.
"Not just 'someone,' Mahendra." Brhaspati cautioned. "This task requires a
young man of sterling virtue: someone who is obedient, devout, smart,
dedicated and exceptionally intelligent."
"I know just the person who meets your criteria, gurudev!" Indra smiled in
pleasure.
"Really?!" exclaimed Brhaspati. ‘And who is this young deva?"
Indra shook his head. "Not one of us, master: he is none other than your
own son, Kacha!"
"Kacha?"
"Yes, gurudev,” Indra asserted categorically. "Kacha is the only one
qualified to obtain the Mrtasanjeevani by serving Sukra."
"I would be only too glad if my son could be of assistance in these
circumstances. He would be stepping in to discharge a duty which is his
father's by right." Brhaspati continued thoughtfully: "Kacha is a devoted
disciple, irrespective of the guru he serves."
The deva-guru came to a decision and smiled at Indra. "If my son succeeds
in this mission, I shall share his credit! I will indeed be a proud father. I will
send Kacha to Sukra tomorrow itself."
"I am blessed, gurudev. I will come with you to meet Kacha and personally
request his intercession on behalf of the gods." Indra folded his hands in
reverence.
The sonorous chant of mantras by the young rakshasas reverberated from
Sukra's hermitage, situated in a sylvan glade in the forest adjoining
Vrshaparva, the asura capital. Sukra listened attentively to his disciples,
seated in orderly rows under the spreading branches of a tree.
Sukra's daughter, Devayaani, approached him with a vessel of drinking
water. Her attention was drawn to a young man entering the hermitage. The
youth was a complete stranger to the ashram, and to Vrshaparva's court.
Devayaani's curious eyes could not drag themselves away from the
newcomer's face. His obvious beauty and magnetism held her captive.
The young man came to stand before Sukra with his hands folded in
respect. "Gurudev,” his mellow voice was infinitely pleasing to the ear. "I,
Kacha, the son of Taara and Brhaspati – preceptor of the gods, salute you."
He bowed in reverence to Sukra. "I come here to dedicate myself to your
service. Please accept me as your disciple and bless me with your teaching."
Sukra's keen eyes appraised Kacha from head to foot. "Did you say son of
Brhaspati?" he asked, surprise writ large upon his face.
"Yes, gurudev ," Kacha admitted. "I come in search of your eminent
tutelage. It is my father who has sent me here to further my education.
Please accept me as your disciple."
"My dear Kacha," Sukra gave a wry smile. "Do you really believe that there
is any knowledge which Acharya Brhaspati himself does not possess?"
"My father insisted that studying under your eminent guidance would
benefit me a thousand fold more than his own instruction." Kacha remarked
with a smile.
'How charming his smile is!' thought Devayaani. Completely bewitched by
Kacha, she stared at him, forgetting to offer her father the water she carried
in her hands.
Kacha was the son of devaguru Brhaspati: that made him the son of her
father's arch-rival. Would her father send the young man on his way with a
few choice insults? Or, would he condescend to accept him as his disciple?
How pleasant it would be if the handsome Kacha lived in the hermitage as
her father's disciple! Devyaani waited anxiously to hear her father's
decision.
In direct contrast to the love-struck Devyaani, the young asuras glared at
Kacha in open antagonism. Dark thoughts filled their minds: son of the
devaguru ! He was undoubtedly here, in the guise of a disciple, to steal the
rakshasas’ secrets. Would Sukra fall for his honeyed compliments and
accept him?
"Father," prompted Devayaani softly, "if a guru is approached by a seeker
of knowledge, whoever the supplicant may be, he ."
"Must be accepted as a disciple by the guru, " Sukra completed his
daughter's sentence, his eyes still intent on Kacha.
"Gurudev !" one of the asura disciples exclaimed in horror. "Do you plan to
accept the deva- guru’s son as your disciple?"
"Yes, my boy," Sukra replied complacently. "This only demonstrates our
magnanimity and enhances our honour." He continued as a teacher. "You
must never overlook the noble code of conduct which ordains that a seeker
of knowledge should never be turned away."
"Father, have a drink of water." Devayaani belatedly proffered the vessel to
her father.
Sukra passed the container to Kacha saying, "Kacha, have some water." He
smiled kindly at his new student. "Accepting you as my disciple translates
into my accepting and honoring your father, Brhaspati."
Devayaani gave Kacha one more quick glance before running back to the
hermitage. There was a new spring in her step.
Sukra assigned Kacha the duty of tending the hermitage cows. Kacha's days
were soon filled with the routine of taking the herd to graze in the forest and
collecting flowers, fruits, sacrificial twigs and grass for the ritual worship.
These chores were in addition to his prescribed lessons. Kacha carried out
his errands promptly, with uncomplaining good humour. He was always
willing to lend a hand at the hermitage. Kacha's patience and dedication,
conspicuously absent in the coarse asura youth, appealed greatly to Sukra.
By dint of his diligence and obedience, Kacha soon earned his master's
approbation and a special place in his heart.
Kacha was often in Devayaani's company, as he helped her with her daily
chores in the house and with the care of the cows. His witty conversation
and gentle consideration secured her affection. To her delight, he grew
accustomed to bringing her delicious fruits and rare flowers from his
foraging expeditions to the forest.
Devayaani's initial attraction towards Kacha soon blossomed into full-
blown love. While Sukra gave Kacha a special place in his heart, his
daughter gave her heart itself to the handsome young man. Deluded by her
own love for him, Devayaani mistook Kacha's innate courtesy and charm as
signs that her feelings were reciprocated.
As Sukra's affection for Kacha, and Devayaani's love, grew stronger like the
rays of the rising sun, the hatred of the asura disciples also grew alongside,
like lengthening shadows. The young rakshasas deeply resented Kacha's
rise in their master's estimation and his hold on Sukra's affection.
"Kacha is the son of our enemy's preceptor: this obviously makes him our
enemy. Our master is mistakenly lavishing his affection and praise on him –
to our detriment." the senior most of the asura disciples spoke out in
protest. "We must not tolerate this injustice any longer."
"But, what can we do?" asked the others.
"I have an idea," their leader said. "Today, when Kacha leads the cows to
the forest, as usual, we will follow him stealthily and kill him."
"Hear, hear!" the asuras eagerly applauded the scheme. "This is the only
permanent solution to this vexing problem!"
Executing their sinister plan, the asuras followed Kacha to the forest. They
pounced on the unsuspecting young man as he grazed the cows, tied him to
a tree and murdered him in cold blood. Dusk fell over the hermitage and the
grazing cows found their way home from the forest without their keeper.
Time passed, but there was no sign of the young man.
Devayaani anxiously paced the front yard, peering intently into the
gathering darkness of night for some sign of Kacha's return. Her heart raced
with fearful thoughts: had he met with some dire peril in the thick of the
forest? Had some wild animal attacked him? Had he been bitten by a
venomous snake?
Filled with apprehension, Devayaani rushed to Sukra. "Father, the cows
have returned to the barn without Kacha. Night has fallen, but there is no
sign of him yet. I fear he has met with some untoward accident in the forest.
I am worried, father!"
To Sukra's astonishment, the distressed Devayaani burst into tears.
"Devayaani, why are you weeping?"
"Father, Kacha is my very life!" she confessed. "Please help him."
Sukra closed his eyes in single-minded meditation, summoning his
awesome mystic powers. After a while, he slowly emerged from his trance
and looked at his daughter. "Devayaani, Kacha is dead … he has been
bound to a tree in the forest and murdered."
"Father!" gasped Devayaani. Her body was convulsed by racking sobs.
"My dear, wipe your tears: Kacha will return to life. Remember that I
possess the power of the Mrtasanjeevani." Sukra consoled his beloved
daughter. "Go now, wash your face and compose yourself."
The reassured Devayaani smiled at him in gratitude and left to do as he had
ordered.
Sukra chanted the mantra which invoked the goddess of the
Mrtasanjeevani. Instantaneously, the benign goddess appeared before him,
ready to do his bidding.
"Sanjeevani," Sukra said authoritatively. "Kacha is my favourite disciple
and very dear to me. He now lies dead in the forest. I command you to
bring him back to life!"
The goddess of the Mrtasanjeevani whirled to the forest with the speed of
wind. She restored Kacha to life and led him back to the ashram. Presenting
the young man respectfully to the waiting asura-guru , the goddess
disappeared.
Devayaani rushed excitedly to meet Kacha. Her face wet with tears of joy,
she gazed at the young man. Her eyes brimmed with love. She then turned
to Sukra, who looked on, beaming with pride. "Father!" Devayaani fell into
his arms.
Sukra held his daughter close and stroked her back in tender caress. He
looked at Kacha over her head. "Kacha," Sukra said, "it was Devayaani who
noted your absence and grew apprehensive. She would not be consoled
until I promised to restore you to life. You are obviously everything to my
daughter."
"I am fortunate indeed, gurudev!" Kacha bowed in deep gratitude.
"Come, Kacha!" Devayaani said happily. "Mother is waiting for us."
Kacha sat in his hut, under the light of an oil lamp, revising the morning
lessons taught by Sukra. Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed in and the flame
flickered. Kacha frowned and looked searchingly towards the door which
he had earlier shut against the elements: Devayaani stood on the threshold.
She closed the door softly behind her and walked to him. Her white saree
floated about her like the translucent wings of an angel; her jet- black hair
was a rippling cascade down her back; her face glowed like the luminescent
full moon; her dark eyes were two mysterious pools of gleaming water …
"Kacha," her voice was husky, "tell me – what happened in the forest?"
"I have no idea," replied the bemused Kacha.
"Who … who killed you?" she asked urgently.
"I did not see or hear anyone. Suddenly, I felt excruciating pain: it was as
though a flaming bolt of steel pierced my heart …" Kacha shuddered in
remembered horror. "That is all I know …"
"Do not venture too deep into the forest in future. You must make sure that
you are back at the hermitage before sunset." She declared impassionedly:
"Kacha, do you realize that I could not endure life if anything happened to
you?!"
"Yes, Devayaani, I know – your affection is my shield against the
vicissitudes of life," Kacha expressed his heartfelt gratitude to her.
"Do you know why that is so?" she smiled meaningfully at him. "You are
my very life!"
"Yes, gurudev himself said the same thing to me earlier," Kacha asserted.
Devayaani stood to leave. "From tomorrow, you will stop at the forest
edge," she said.
"That depends of the cows, Devayaani," Kacha chuckled softly. "The
ashram cows seem to have a mind of their own!" He continued more
seriously. "You know that the cows, particularly the homadhenus used in
the rituals, must be given free rein to wander as they will."
"I do not know about such things and I do not care!" She was defiant. "All I
care about is your safety and all I know is that you are everything to me!"
Devayaani shut the door behind her and walked into the night.
The next morning, the asura disciples were chagrined to see Kacha seated
before their guru, serenely reciting the Vedic mantras. They quickly
deduced that Sukra had restored Kacha to life with the Mrtasanjeevani.
They held a hurried confabulation as to their next course of action.
Their leader suggested that they kill Kacha once again: only, this time, they
would ensure that his body did not remain behind to be reanimated by
Sukra. They finalized the details of their nefarious plot and bided their time.
An opportunity soon arrived for the conspirators to execute their plan.
A few days later, as Kacha set out for the forest with the herd of cows,
Devayaani asked him to bring her some particularly fragrant flowers. The
jubilant asuras, aware that these rare blooms could be found only in the
dense interior of the forest, decided that the time was ripe to do away with
their nemesis.
As Kacha ventured deep into the thick forest in search of the exotic flowers,
the group of would-be assassins clandestinely followed in his wake. Two
asuras ambushed the unwary Kacha and stabbed him with sharp daggers.
Slinging his corpse over their shoulders, the killers made their way to a
small, secluded clearing, where their co-conspirators had arranged a pyre.
The triumphant asuras flung Kacha's body on the pyre and burnt it. The
leader collected the ashes in a bag which he secreted inside his attire. The
wicked band stealthily returned to the hermitage, where they had earlier
hidden some wine in the thickets.
The ingenious asuras now mixed Kacha's ashes into the wine and made
their way to Sukra, who was seated at leisure on the dais. In an apparent
outpouring of devoted service to their guru , the disciples pressed his legs,
fanned him concernedly and urged him to drink the wine they offered. In
feigned innocence, they emphasized that they had prepared it especially for
him. Sukra, pleased with their evident devotion, consumed all the wine.
The asuras were jubilant at the success of their plan. "Our master's
favourite disciple has now entered our master's stomach through his
favourite drink!" Their leader crowed sarcastically. "Gurudev now cannot
restore the digested Kacha to life!"
Dusk fell and the grazing cows once again headed home without their
herder. Devayaani, waiting for Kacha to return with her flowers, was
immediately flooded by alarm. She rushed to her father, who was in a
pleasantly intoxicated state. Devayaani burst into tears and reported Kacha's
alarming absence. In vain, Sukra attempted to console his weeping
daughter.
The impassioned Devayaani declared: "Father, I will not let a morsel of
food, or a drop of water, touch my mouth until Kacha stands before me!"
His beloved daughter's evident agony cleared the fumes of intoxication
from Sukra's mind. He sat up in renewed alertness. "I will use my yogic
skills to deduce Kacha's fate. I assure you that I will soon restore him to
you." He patted Devayaani on her shoulders. "Now, wipe your tears and go
inside."
Devayaani, confident in her father's mystic power, obediently went in
search of her mother.
Sukra ritualistically washed his hands and feet and adopted the posture of
meditation. He concentrated the mystic vibration of his thoughts into
probing tendrils which sought out Kacha's presence. To Sukra's vast
surprise, he could find no trace of Kacha in the entire universe,
circumscribed by the awesome Lokaaloka Mountain. Undeterred, the
asura-guru single-mindedly focused on locating Kacha and persisted in his
endeavor. Finally, to his chagrin, Sukra divined that Kacha was in his own
stomach, in the form of ashes mixed with wine.
Sukra was immediately flooded with deep self-recrimination: it was his
fondness for wine which had led to this sorry state of affairs. He despised
the intoxicating drink which had camouflaged and carried the ashes of his
favourite disciple into his body. Sukra realized that the accumulated
wisdom of several births could vanish in a moment of inebriation.
The incensed asura-guru pronounced his malediction on the insidious
intoxicant: "This is the curse of Sukra – the consumption of wine will
hereafter be considered a sin. Wine-drinkers will be pushed into depravity
and find themselves in an excruciating hell."
Consumed by guilt for ingesting Kacha and excoriating himself for his
weakness for wine, the asura-guru immediately invoked the Mrtasanjeevani
to restore Kacha to life in a miniature form within the confines of his
stomach. Sukra reached out to Kacha with his mind.
"Gurudev!” exclaimed Kacha. "By your mercy, I am alive in the precincts
of your sacred stomach. Please extend your compassion to me and show me
a way out! Save me, master!"
Sukra sank into deep cogitation. The only way for Kacha to emerge from
his stomach was to burst out of its confines. But this would undoubtedly
lead to Sukra's own death. Sukra could be restored to life by the power of
the formidable Mrtasanjeevani. But, again, who could wield the mantra on
his behalf? He was forbidden by Lord Shiva to pass on the secret of the life-
giving incantation to a woman: this effectively ruled out both his wife and
daughter. Who was left? Kacha alone. Sukra reached the inevitable
conclusion: the only way out of this predicament was to pass on the secret
of the Mrtasanjeevani to Kacha.
"My dear Kacha," Sukra addressed his favoured disciple: "In order to return
to the outside world, you must burst through the walls of my stomach. Of
course, this will result in my own death."
He continued thoughtfully. "The only way out of this deadlock is for me to
teach you the Mrtasanjeevani before you emerge from my body – using this
mantra, you can then restore me to life."
"So be it, gurudev," Kacha agreed from the depths of Sukra's stomach.
"Remember, once you regain your original form, I will be inert. It is up to
you to bring me back to life using your mastery over the Mrtasanjeevani."
"It shall be as you command, master," Kacha assured him.
"Listen carefully, my son: I now impart to you the priceless Mrtasanjeevani
mantra …" Sukra conscientiously taught Kacha the secret of the life-
restoring chant.
"Emerge from my stomach, Kacha!" Sukra's voice rose in grave command.
"Make your master whole again through the power of the Mrtasanjeevani!"
In answer to his master's call, Kacha burst out of Sukra's stomach.
Instantaneously, he regained his original stature. For a moment, Kacha
stared in horror at the mangled remains of his master, who had died to give
him life. Kacha quickly gathered his thoughts and, in his turn, recited the
Mrtasanjeevani mantra. To his amazed relief, Sukra regained life and sat
up, whole. Kacha prostrated himself at his master's feet: Sukra blessed him,
his eyes mirroring his own gratitude.
The next morning, the asura disciples gaped in open-mouthed astonishment
at the sight of Kacha calmly going about his routine chores: obviously, very
much alive! In some unfathomable way, their plan had been foiled yet again
by their master. They gave up in despair.
Sukra roundly upbraided them: "You have stooped to the despicable level of
killing a fellow-disciple, reducing his remains to ashes, mixing those ashes
in your own master's wine and ensuring that your master consumed this
wine!" He glared at them in withering contempt. ‘As Kacha has survived
your dastardly machinations, I am overlooking your crime this time." His
voice rose. "However, be warned: I will not be so merciful in the future!"
The young asuras bowed their heads in abject shame. Tremors of fear ran
through the group.
Kacha intervened and stepped forward to stand before Sukra. "Gurudev,”
he said. "With your permission, I will make my departure from here." He
smiled wryly. "My continued presence will necessitate your daily
deployment of the Mrtasanjeevani on my behalf!"
"Yes, my dear Kacha," Sukra nodded in approval. "It is certainly advisable
for you to leave a hostile environment which poses a constant threat to your
life. Your father sent you to the shelter of my protection. Now, it is time I
returned you safely to his custody." He smiled. "On another note, your
education here is almost complete. Yes, the time is ripe for you to make
your departure from the ashram ."
Devayaani's adoring gaze lingered on Kacha. "Do you realize that you are
even handsomer after being resurrected from death for the second time?"
she asked him with a fond smile.
‘And the credit for it all goes to you!" Kacha exclaimed. "Master told me
that you refused to eat or drink until my return." His voice was thick with
emotion. "Devayaani, I am indebted to you – how can I ever repay you?"
"There is a way!" Her hands unthinkingly removed her upper garment in
suggestive invitation and then draped it back over her breasts. "Shall I tell
you how you can repay me?"
"Tell me." Kacha nodded eagerly, adding: "Whatever I do, I know that it
will always be inadequate. My debt of gratitude can never be paid. Even if
you consider a life for a life, I cannot repay you with my life." He smiled
tenderly at her. "I can only die once – but you gave me the gift of life
twice!"
"I do not want your life." Devayaani locked eyes with Kacha. "I want your
love."
"Devayaani, surely you know that I have abundant love and affection for
you!" Kacha protested.
"I know that: which is why I ask you to repay your debt of gratitude in this
way …" Her eyes pierced his own. "Marry me."
"Devayaani!!" Kacha gasped in outright astonishment. "You … have you
lost your mind?"
"Yes," she smiled serenely. "I lost my mind the moment I first set eyes on
you! From that very instant, my heart was no longer my own - it has been
circling you, weaving its songs of love." She asked, "Kacha, my dearest:
why this surprise in your eyes? On the day of your arrival in Vrshaparva,
Manmatha, the god of love, united us in marriage: the tying of the sacred
thread remains a mere formality."
"Devayaani ." the flabbergasted Kacha was at a loss for words.
"I saw you," she whispered dreamily, "and you crept into my heart.I offered
myself to you, body and soul, on that very day."
"Devayaani," Kacha said with gentle regret, "you are living in a dream
world of your own creation."
"Kacha!" Her cry was anguished.
"Do you know the prescribed relationship between a disciple and his
master's daughter?"
Devayaani's voice remained deceptively calm. "I do not know."
"Do you know the relationship between a disciple and his master …
between an individual and the person who gave him life?" Kacha persisted.
"I do not know," she replied implacably.
"Yes, you do know!" Kacha burst out. "You know it well - don't deny it!
You certainly know that the guru 's daughter is like a sister to his disciple.
You know that the guru and the giver of life are both akin to a person's
father!"
Devayaani's unswerving gaze held Kacha's.
"Devayaani, you are my guru 's daughter: that makes you my sister. Your
father is both my guru and my life-giver: that makes me his son." His voice
was persuasive. "Please accept this reality and forget your unreasonable
demands."
Devayaani's melting eyes hardened and flashed fire. "I understand now,
Kacha: you pretended to love me so that you could obtain the
Mrtasanjeevani! Your avowals of love and affection were nothing more
than cheap lies to help you achieve your objective!" She threw her
accusation at him in burning contempt.
"I will say it even now – I have the utmost love and affection for you!"
Kacha protested indignantly. "I only expressed the true feelings in my heart.
It is you who misconstrued my love into lust." He was now the accuser.
"You are the one at fault – not I!" Kacha bowed courteously to her. "My
heartfelt gratitude to you for your affection, sister. My guru has granted me
permission to depart from here." He turned to leave.
"Stop!" Devayaani's shout made him halt in his tracks. Kacha turned back
to her.
Devayaani's eyes were balls of fire in her red face. She panted, her chest
heaving with the ebb and flow of the angry tide of her emotions. Her entire
body trembled in fury. "The scales have fallen from my eyes, Kacha." Her
lips curled in contempt. "I see through your charade: you came here for the
Mrtasanjeevani! Those stupid asura disciples played into your hand with
their attacks on you. My father's desire to restore your life was another
unexpected stroke of luck."
She paused and locked eyes with him. Her voice crescendoed to a shriek.
"Hear me, Kacha: the Mrtasanjeevani … the mantra which gave you life
twice … the mantra which my father so trustingly taught you … this same
mantra will not work when invoked by you. This is the curse of Devayaani,
daughter of Sukra!"
Kacha remained unmoved by Devayaani's fury. "I did no wrong," he
insisted. "The only way to obtain the Mrtasanjeevani is to be taught its
secret by the guru – which is what my master did! And now, your curse has
made it impossible for me to use it myself!"
"You shameless cheat!" she screamed. "Do not show me your face again:
get out!"
"I will go," retorted the angry Kacha. "But, before I do so, I will repay you
in kind for your curse." He locked eyes with her. ‘As you were consumed
by inappropriate lust, you will not marry within your own clan: this is the
curse of Kacha, son of Brhaspati!"
Kacha stalked out of the hut and went straight to Sukra. The asura- guru
remarked the thunderous expression on his favourite disciple's face and
looked interrogatively at Kacha.
"Gurudev" Kacha asked, "what is the relationship between a disciple and
his master's daughter?"
"Of course, my son – they are like brother and sister," Sukra asserted
categorically.
"From the very beginning, I have treated Devayaani as my own sister."
Kacha paused. "In line with my brotherly affection for her, I have turned
down her proposal of marriage."
"You have but followed the code of dharma , Kacha. You may leave!"
Sukra raised his hand in benediction over Kacha.
"These are the highlights of Sukra's life." Nirvikalpananda smiled at his
disciples.
"Master," Sadananda quickly spoke up. "You did not narrate the episode in
which Sukra cursed Yayaathi."
"I think the master has forgotten it," said Chidananda.
"No, Chidananda: I did not forget!" The master paused to explain: "That
episode is not particularly relevant to our discourse – it belongs to
Yayaathi's story." Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "However, since you
are interested, I will touch upon it here."
He continued. "One day, Sarmishta, Vrshaparva's daughter, in the heat of a
quarrel, pushed Devayaani into an unused well in the forest and abandoned
her there. Subsequently, King Yayaathi, who happened to be passing by,
saved Devayaani. The vengeful Devayaani instigated her father, Sukra, into
making Sarmishta her servant maid. Devayaani married Yayaathi, but he
fell in love with Sarmishta and secretly married her too. The enraged Sukra
cursed Yayaathi with premature old age."
"Master," it was Shivananda's turn. "What about the story in which Sukra
becomes one-eyed?"
"Now, now: you must let me come to each story in my own order – that
incident belongs under the segment which delineates the glories of the
Navagrahas.” Nirvikalpananda gently reprimanded his enthusiastic
disciples. "Let me first tell you the life story of the seventh graha:
Sanaischara."
There was an immediate stir of excitement among the four pupils.
"Master, I am certain that Sanaischara's life will ten times more interesting
than that of the other grahas!" exclaimed the eager Sadananda.
"The Puranas give us a very limited account of Sanaischara's life. The
enlightened hold that Sanaischara worshipped Brahma and that Lord Shiva
was his favourite deity. We are also told that Sani simultaneously impressed
the Holy Trinity, the Trimurti."
Nirvikalpananda paused to look at his attentive listeners. "A large part of
our knowledge of Sanaischara comes from word of mouth passed on from
generation to generation. When such information does not impinge
negatively on the character, attitude, principles and power of Sanaischara, it
is quite appropriate to accept these accounts."
"But, master – they may be just figments of the imagination …"
Vimalananda was hesitant. "Can we accept them?"
Nirvikalpananda smiled serenely. "If we look at it logically, there can be no
fiction without fact. Imagination stems from what has been actually heard,
seen or read – in other words, from what has been experienced by the
senses. Truth is the foundation of imagination and fact is the mother of
fiction. There will be an element of imagination in these versions … but
truth will certainly lurk behind such inventiveness."
"Master, your rationale is commendable!" exclaimed Chidananda. "Please
continue with the story of Sani's life."
"Very well, Chidananda – listen. As I told you, Sani, Saavarni and Tapati,
Chaaya's children, are growing up in Samjna's care. Yama, Samjna's son,
returned from his penance in the forest. There was a new radiance in his
face …"
Nirvikalpananda resumed his narrative.
The Life of Sanaischara
Y ama, returning from his extended penance in the forest, touched his
parents' feet in respect. He straightened up and warmly embraced Sani,
Saavarni, Yami and Tapati.
Surya regarded his son fondly "Yama, I hope you have successfully
completed your penance."
"Lord Brahma has blessed me with an incredible position, father – one of
the utmost importance." Yama's eyes gleamed. "The Creator has appointed
me the Regent of the South!"
"Is that so?!" Samjna glowed with pride, as she looked at Surya. "My son
has become a dikpaalaka: one of the eight guardians of the directions!"
"Brahma enumerated my manifold duties. I will bind the dead souls with
my lasso – the paasa. Subsequently I will weigh their virtues against their
sins, prior to deciding whether to banish them to one of the twenty-seven
hells under my jurisdiction, or reward them with entry into heaven."
Yama paused and continued gravely. "The Creator instructed me to
propitiate Lord Shiva to obtain the required knowledge which would equip
me to judge the merits and demerits of the dead."
"Did you follow his advice, son?" Samjna asked.
"Yes, mother," Yama replied. "In accordance with Brahma's counsel, I went
to the mighty Himalayan Mountains to win Shiva's favour. In due course,
the Lord, pleased with my rigorous tapas, appeared before me … and what
happened next was a truly incredible experience!"
Surya and Samjna were all ears as Yama continued: "Lord Shiva initiated
me into the mysteries of the renowned Sikshaasmrthi – the treatise on
punishment, authored by the Lord himself."
Yama paused to get their undivided attention. "Lord Shiva passed on his
knowledge to me through the language of transcendental silence. During his
entire course of instruction, the Lord's lips did not move – but his awesome
voice resounded with crystal clarity in the innermost reaches of my being!"
"Yama," exclaimed Surya, "you are fortunate indeed!"
"Swami," asked the curious Samjna, "did Lord Shiva himself formulate the
Sikshaasmrthi ?"
"Yes, Samjna," Surya explained. "Lord Shiva, as the destroyer of the worlds
at the time of the Maha Pralaya, or Total Annihilation, is the one who gives
peaceful repose to the souls who are sorely tired by the cycle of birth and
death. Aware of the necessity of computing the virtues and sins
accumulated by mortals in the course of each birth, the Lord framed the
treatise as the ultimate instrument of fair judgement."
Yama addressed his parents: "Viswakarma, the divine architect, has
completed the construction of a city for me on the southern face of the
Maha Meru Mountain. The city is called Samyamani. It holds a court of
vast dimension – an incredible hundred yojanas in length and width! I have
been tasked with performing my duties in this court." Yama bowed
reverentially to his parents and continued, "I will proceed to Samyamani
with your blessings. Once I begin to discharge my duties, I am to be known
as 'Yamadharmaraja.'"
"Yamadharmaraja!" Surya exclaimed with a wry smile of approbation. "An
eminently suitable name for a person who constantly recites the word
dharma !"
"My heart brims with happiness." Samjna smiled contentedly. "My eldest
son, Vaivasvata has become a king, with the title of 'Manu.' Now, my
second son is to be the regent of a direction." She paused to advise Yama.
"Son, before proceeding to Samyamani, visit Vaivasvata and Sraddha and
seek their blessings."
"Yes, mother," Yama said obediently "I will stop to meet my brother and
sister-in-law."
Surya's family had listened to the account of Yama's achievements with the
greatest pride and pleasure. However, there was one exception to this happy
group: as Yama proceeded with his narrative, Sani's dark face was slowly
engulfed by hot waves of disappointment and jealousy.
Samjna turned to the children and said, "Saavarni, your brother, Yama, has
pleased both Brahma and Lord Shiva with his dedication and devoted
penance. Consequently, he has been anointed one of the dikpaalakas,
blessed with a phenomenal court in a beautiful city and …"
Surya intervened: "You should all consider Yama as your role model and
attempt to emulate his achievements."
"I will achieve greater fame than Yama!" Sani's declaration was an
impassioned shout of protest.
The entire family turned to him in surprise. Sani's eyes burned an angry red.
"Sanaischara," Surya said, "What is the meaning of this aggressive fury?"
Sani locked eyes with his father. "Yama could only please two gods:
Brahma and Shiva." He drew himself up to his full height. "I, Sanaischara,
will propitiate all three of the Holy Trinity: Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva!"
Yama, shocked at Sani's sudden outburst, laid a conciliatory hand on his
shoulder. "Brother …"
Sani roughly brushed aside Yama's hand. "So, you think you are better than
everyone else, do you?" Sani leered sarcastically at him. "Well, let me tell
you something, 'Brother:' I will surpass you in achievement! I will ensure
that your fame is diminished by my success!"
"Sani!" Samjna was aghast. "You are being insolent!
"It is not insolence: it is self-confidence and self-esteem," Sani retorted.
"You will be forced to appreciate me in the way you just gushed over
Yama!"
"Sanaischara!" Surya thundered. "That is quite enough!"
"I am leaving," Sani said loudly "I will not return without obtaining boons
from the Trimurti.”
"Brother …" Saavarni reached out to him.
"I shall come back in triumph, Saavarni." Sani cut him short and stalked out
of the room. There was a moment's stunned silence …
"Swami," Samjna's voice was a sad whisper. "Why is Sani so jealous?"
Surya smiled reassuringly at his wife. ‘As a goad for the necessary
development of his own personality, my dear!"
Sani walked slowly along the narrow forest track. Sage Narada, making his
way across the sky, saw the solitary youth and landed some way ahead of
him.
The sage walked back to Sani and accosted him with his trademark chant:
"Narayana!"
Sani stopped in mid-stride and gave Narada a desultory glance. "Pranam,
Sage Narada," he said mechanically, folding his hands in salutation.
"I offer your greetings to Lord Narayana," said Narada with a benign smile.
"Where are you headed, son of Surya?"
"Narada, you should have added my mother's name and addressed me as the
'son of Surya and Chaaya.'" Sani frowned in reprimand.
"Narayana!" exclaimed the sage. "Of course, you are Chaaya's son: even if I
fail to proclaim it, nothing can change that undeniable fact!" He changed
the subject. "You are walking very fast – where are you headed to in such a
hurry?"
‘Are you ridiculing me, Narada?" Sani flushed in anger. "I have been
picking my way as if on a thorn-strewn path!" His voice was bitterly
accusatory. "You know very well that I am naturally endowed with a slow
gait. Hampered in this way, is it possible for me to walk fast? Do not mock
me!"
"Narayana!" Narada protested. "I only meant to suggest that your
purposeful stride speaks of a definite objective." He lowered his voice. "Are
you on a secret mission?"
"Is penance considered a secret mission?"
"Penance?" asked Narada curiously. ‘And which god do you intend to
propitiate with your tapas – Brahma, Vishnu or Shiva?"
"I, Sanaischara, consider all the three to be equal, Narada." Sani declared
haughtily. "My penance will be directed simultaneously to the Trimurti ."
"Narayana!" Narada gasped in astonishment. "Why propitiate three gods?
After all, any one of them is perfectly capable of showering you with boons
in his own right!"
"I have decided to propitiate the Trinity as one entity, Narada." Sani
reiterated firmly. "Nothing can make me change my mind." He continued:
"Do you know that Yama obtained the favour of two of them: Brahma and
Shiva? Now, I shall earn the goodwill of all three!"
"Narayana! Narayana!" Narada smiled knowingly. "I now understand! Of
course, your intention is good … but, are you aware that this objective can
be achieved only after a very, very long time?"
Sani locked eyes with Narada. "I assure you that I am very much aware
that, if you continue to stand in my way, blathering about inconsequential
things, it will definitely take me a very, very long time to reach my goal!"
"Narayana!" the sage gave an appeasing smile. ‘After all, you are Surya's
son: I am here merely to enquire about your welfare – that's all!" He
paused. "Of course, it is also for your welfare that I give you my humble
opinion: in order to propitiate the three godheads of the Trinity, one is
required to choose three different times and three different …"
"Narada!" Sani interrupted rudely. ‘And who told you these conditions?
Why do you presume to be knowledgeable about things beyond your
experience?" He made an impassioned declaration. "Listen well, Narada: I
shall perform tapas to propitiate Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva all at once …
understand? Simultaneously – is that clear to you?" Sani's lips curled in
contempt, "So, go your way – and let me go mine!"
"Narayana!" Narada's chant reflected his astonishment. "Propitiating three
gods all at once! Doing penance to the Trimurti simultaneously! It is
unprecedented! Such tapas has never been attempted in the past: nor will it
be replicated in the future!"
"Well, it is going to be executed in the present!" Sani shot back at Narada.
"Go, Narada: spread these sensational tidings throughout the three worlds.
Go!"
Dismissing Narada with these curt words, Sani resumed his resolute walk.
Narada, mouth agape, stepped aside and stared at his receding figure.
Sanaischara embarked on his penance in a secluded glade in the heart of the
forest. He formulated three Ashtaakshari mantras – three incantations
composed of eight letters each, addressing Brahma, Vishnu and Maheswara
in turn.
Om Chaturmukhaaya namah! Om Mahaavishnave namah! Om
Maheswaraaya namah!
Sani meditated on the Trimurti simultaneously, reciting his three mantras
consecutively. Sani's unprecedented, unique method of invocation became a
watershed in the history of penance. His tapas scaled new heights of
spiritual power and intense concentration. They reached out to Brahma,
Vishnu and Maheswara with the visceral pull of an infant's cry to his father.
Yet, the peculiar circumstance of Sani's penance rendered them helpless to
respond!
Sani's invocation of Brahma with the mantra, 'Om Chaturmukhaaya
namah!' reached the Creator. However, before Brahma could appear before
Sani, his next incantation, 'Om Mahaavishnave namah!' intervened to block
the Creator's move and kept him firmly on his lotus throne! Brahma was
forced to concede that it was Vishnu whom Sani sought to propitiate.
In the same way, whenever Lord Vishnu prepared himself to grant Sani his
darshan, the mantra, 'Om Maheswaraaya namah!’ halted him in his tracks.
The Lord continued to recline benignly on his serpent-bed of Adisesha's
coils, leaving it to Shiva to respond to Sani's call.
Likewise, Lord Shiva was also drawn to answer Sani's insistent invocation.
Again, Sani's mantra to Brahma overlapped with his own and forced Shiva
to remain unresponsive.
Sani's unanswered, unique, three-fold penance rose in tempo. The
devouring heat of its intensity engulfed the three worlds: it burst into a
conflagration which reduced the forests to ashes, made simmering
cauldrons of the oceans and led to a mounting loss of life. The phenomenal
heat of Sani's tapas reached up to the heavens. The agitated Indra
summoned his mentor, Brhaspati, and requested him to determine the cause
of this unexpected heat wave.
Before the deva-guru could respond, he was interrupted by the familiar
chant, "Narayana!"
It was Sage Narada.
"Mahendra," remarked the smiling Brhaspati, "I have been preempted by
the arrival of the messenger of the three worlds! He will answer your
doubts!"
"Narayana!" said Narada in greeting. "I suppose you refer to the unnatural
heat wave which has engulfed all the worlds. As we all know, Indra is
responsible for the welfare of the three worlds: that is why I have hastened
here to appraise him of the peculiar circumstances prevailing." He
continued with his tidings. "The uncommon method of penance adopted by
Sanaischara, Surya's son, is the reason for the dire peril faced by the
cosmos."
Brhaspati and Indra listened to Narada's words and exchanged glances of
wonder.
"And what exactly is the reason for this youth's peculiar penance?" asked
Indra in exasperation.
"He insists that the three godheads of the Holy Trinity – Brahma, Vishnu
and Shiva, appear before him simultaneously," Narada replied.
"Appearance of the Trimurti at the same time!" Indra gasped in amazement.
"This is nothing but sheer madness!"
"Yes," agreed Brhaspati. "Sani's unnatural desire poses a grave danger to
the three worlds."
"I shall cure his madness," firmly declared the irate king of the devas. "I
will immediately dispatch two exquisite apsaras to disrupt his manic
penance." Indra smiled sarcastically "We will ensure that he is too busy
pursuing our beauties to find time to resume his tapas!"
"Well thought, Mahendra!" Brhaspati applauded the scheme. "Let's not lose
any time in putting your plan into action!"
"That Sani is an arrogant and insolent youth …" Narada inserted a note of
caution into the proceedings.
"Never fear, Maharshi ," Indra was supremely confident. "His arrogance
and insolence will vanish with the winds when he sees the captivating
beauty of the pair of nymphs I am sending to pay him a visit."
Two apsaras , attired in seductive, gossamer-thin garments, and adorned
with divine ornaments, arrived at the secluded glade of Sani's tapas . As
their startled eyes took in the ferocious nature of his penance, their hearts
quailed and the blood rushed to their heads.
The nymphs stared at Sani in morbid fascination: a feeble, black body; eyes
half-closed in meditation; contorted facial features. A dull, crimson glow
radiated from his adamantine body, rigid in its seated posture. Menacing,
dark tentacles reached out into the surrounding atmosphere. The two
watchers were suddenly filled with the same conviction – one glance from
this terrifying apparition and they would be reduced to ashes!
The apsaras exchanged looks of alarm: at the next instant, they vanished
from the scene!
Indra was dumbstruck as the excited apsaras described their encounter with
Sani. The king of the devas, keenly aware that his apsaras were formidable
in their determination to succeed, now conceded that defeating Sani might
be beyond his capabilities. Indra turned to Brhaspati for advice.
"Mahendra, I think the Trimurti are our only recourse in this predicament,"
the preceptor said.
"Master," said Indra, "please accompany me. Let us supplicate the Trimurti
for their aid."
Brahma gave Indra and Brhaspati a patient hearing. However, he shook his
head at their request.
"I'm afraid you will have to reach out to Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva in this
situation. Sani's penance is intolerably intense. Each time he invokes my
name, I attempt to grant him my darshan : however, I am rendered helpless
by his subsequent recitation of Lord Vishnu's name."
"For the welfare of the worlds, I implore you to ignore Sani's extraordinary
method of penance," Indra bowed to Brahma with folded hands. "In spite of
his sequential chant of the Trimurti’s three names, please appear before him
once."
"When he sees Brahma, the Creator, he will forget to invoke the others,"
Brhaspati added his own words of persuasion.
"Very well," Brahma agreed, "considering the well-being of the worlds, I
will grant Sani my darshan ."
Indra and Brhaspati expressed their gratitude to the Creator and left on the
next step of their mission. They met Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva in turn
and placed the same proposal before the Gods. After deep consideration,
both Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva agreed to comply with their urgent
request.
The inhabitants of the three worlds endured untold agony under the glare of
Sani's fierce, heat-generating penance.
Keeping his word to Indra, Lord Brahma appeared before Sani and said:
"Sanaischara, your penance pleases me greatly!"
Sani folded his hands in salutation and asked: "Where is Vishnu? Where is
Shiva??"
Brahma smiled magnanimously. "I am here, my son. I am ready to shower
you with boons of your asking."
"Forgive me, Bhagavan!" Sani replied determinedly. "Unless the Trimurti
appear before me simultaneously, I will not ask for anything."
Sani resumed his intense tapas . Helpless in the face of Sani's stubborn
resolve, Brahma vanished.
After a short interval, Lord Vishnu made his appearance before Sani.
"Sanaischara," called Lord Vishnu, "it is time to end your penance. I am
here to grant you the boons you desire."
Sani opened his eyes and offered his respectful greetings to Lord Vishnu.
"Bhagavan, Brahma and Shiva are not with you."
"They will each give you their darshan in turn," Vishnu reassured Sani.
"Now, tell me what you want from me."
"The objective of my penance is to receive the darshan of the Trimurti at
the same time." Sani reiterated firmly. "I will not dilute the specifications of
my tapas at this stage." He bowed to Vishnu. "Please excuse me for my
adherence to the parameters of my penance and go away. If you are truly
moved to munificence by my tapas , please come along with Brahma and
Shiva."
Sani closed his eyes and resumed his staunch meditation.
"Sanaischara," Lord Vishnu chuckled softly. "Look here!"
Sani remained indifferent to the Lord's summons. He obstinately persisted
in his recitation of his Ashtaakshari mantra:
“Om Chaturmukhaaya namah! Om Mahaavishnave namah! Om
Maheswaraaya namah!”
"Sanaischara!" Three resonant voices chorused in unison. The majestic
tones crashed against his ears like the roar of storm clouds and penetrated
into the depths of his trance. Sani opened his eyes – there before him stood
the smiling Trimurti.
Sani hurriedly rose to his feet and prostrated himself before the Holy
Trinity. "I am fortunate to be blessed with the simultaneous darshan of the
Trimurti!” Sani's voice shook with fervor.
"Sanaischara, you are obstinate indeed!" Lord Vishnu smiled at him. "Your
unyielding stance has forced us to appear before you as a trio."
"Lord, excuse my adamancy," Sani said in deep humility. "My cousin,
Yama, boasted of his feat of obtaining the favour of two of the Trimurti . I
felt belittled by his attitude. That ignited my zeal to propitiate the Trimurti
as one entity and compel them to grant me their darshan at the same time."
"Very well, Sanaischara," Brahma said. "What do you want from us?"
Sani folded his hands in reverence and said: "My Lords, grant me these
boons: let my sight and name inspire fear in all living beings: may they
worship me with devotion, mingled with fear. Let my devotees be blessed
with longevity. Grant me these boons in one voice."
"So be it, Sanaischara," the Trimurti said in unison.
Sani bowed to them and continued: "Grant me a position which is in no way
inferior to that of Yama," he asked.
"You will be anointed to such a post in the near future," declared Lord
Vishnu.
"We will ensure your appointment to a position of renown," agreed Lord
Shiva.
"I am indeed blessed," Sani sang out in delight.
The Trimurti vanished as one.
Sanaischara returned home in triumph and prostrated himself at his parents'
feet. He then looked round searchingly. "Where is Yama?" he asked.
‘After your departure, Yama, following Brahma's instructions, left for
Samyamani to assume charge as the dikpaalaka of the south," said Samjna.
"I wanted him to hear of my achievement at first-hand," Sani heaved a sigh
of disappointment. He turned to Surya and said: "Father, I embarked on a
rigorous course of penance to propitiate the Trimurti at the same time. As a
consequence of my devotion and unswerving determination, Brahma,
Vishnu and Maheswara appeared before me simultaneously."
"Can this be true?" Surya exclaimed in astonishment. "Penance directed
towards the three godheads at the same time?! Incredible!"
"Yes, father," Sani beamed with pride. "I earned the favour of the three gods
and they blessed me with their darshan simultaneously. They condescended
to grant me all the boons I desired."
Sani elaborated on the boons he had received from the Trimurti. Surya,
Samjna, Saavarni, Yami and Tapati burst into hearty congratulations on
Sani's remarkable achievement.
Sani locked eyes with Surya. "Father," he said, "when Yama boasted that he
had succeeded in propitiating both Brahma and Shiva, you praised him at
great length: now I have surpassed his achievement, by obtaining the
blessings of three gods. Not one … not two … but Three Gods! What do
you say now, father?"
Surya looked meaningfully at his son. "Sani, you voluntarily took Yama's
achievement as a challenge: remember, nobody, including Yama, provoked
you to take that stand. Taking up this challenge has earned you rich
dividends." A smile lit up Surya's radiant face. "My son, I congratulate you
wholeheartedly. I sing your praise. Of course, as Yama's father, I extolled
his achievement: now, I commend you too. I do not hesitate to praise you
repeatedly: after all, you are the giver of long life to mortals!"
"Yes," agreed Samjna. "Swami, our Sanaischara has now matured into a
complete individual. It is time we found a suitable bride for him."
"Mother," Sani quickly intervened. "Let me make it clear to you at the very
outset: I will not marry just any ordinary maiden. As you know, fear
automatically grips anyone who looks at me. I will accept as my bride only
a woman of great courage who will be able to look unflinchingly into the
terrifying depths of my eyes."
"It shall be as you wish, my son." Samjna reassured Sani. "We will find a
brave wife for you."
"Yes," reiterated Sani, "this is my condition for marriage." He walked out of
the chamber, accompanied by the admiring Saavarni, Yami and Tapati.
"It will be a difficult task," Surya said thoughtfully to himself.
"What will be difficult, Swami ?" Samjna asked innocently.
"To find a bride who can fearlessly gaze into our Sani's terrifying eyes!"
Surya heaved a sigh.
Her name was Jyeshtha. Hers was a fearsome beauty -she had the darkest of
complexions and her protruding eyes were tiny balls of fire. Her ugly face
was so repulsive that no one could hold her gaze for even a brief moment.
When she emerged from the Ocean of Milk, Vishnu and Shiva turned away
from her in instinctive revulsion. However, Brahma, with his four faces,
found it impossible to avoid the sight of her repulsive visage. As the hapless
Creator continued to suffer this unavoidable torment, Lord Vishnu pitied
him and commanded Jyeshtha to remove herself from their presence.
Jyeshtha complied and devoted her time to wandering the worlds in
constant search of a male who could tolerate her appearance and accept her
as his wife.
During her visit to Swarga on this quest, Indra saw her at a distance. Even
this brief glimpse of her was enough to send the king of the devas scurrying
for cover to the Nandana garden!
The entire heavenly community, including the gandharvas, kinnaras and
kimpurushas , could not muster the courage to confront her. Their youth
fled at her approach: those unable to make a timely getaway fell
unconscious with the shock of her appearance. The siddhas and chaaranaas
reacted to her in the same way.
Even in the nether worlds, the ferocious rakshasas ran for their lives at the
news of her coming. Jyeshtha moved on to try the regents of the eight
directions. The dikpaalakas hurriedly closed the gates of their cities and
abodes to avoid meeting her. Staunchly refusing to give up hope, Jyeshtha
persisted in her search for a male companion.
Jyeshtha now wandered thoughtfully along a narrow path in the depths of a
forest. As her futile quest continued endlessly, she was forced to confront
the possibility that creation was perhaps incomplete. 'After all,' she thought,
'if creation was indeed entire in itself, I would surely have come across my
male counterpart: someone who would dare to gaze into my face and
recognize its unique beauty.'
A sudden sound caught her ears. Someone was approaching from the
opposite direction. Jyeshtha quickly moved aside and concealed herself
behind a tree trunk.
"Narayana! Narayana! Nar …" Sage Narada abruptly stopped his paean of
praise to Lord Vishnu, as Jyeshtha emerged from hiding to block his path.
With one startled look at her terrifying visage, the sage turned tail and ran!
"Stop!" Jyeshtha shouted after him.
Narada obeyed but prudently kept his back turned towards the stranger.
"I know who you are," Jyeshtha laughed. "You are the divine Sage Narada –
look at me, Narada!" she commanded.
"I do not dare face you …" Narada stammered.
"And why is that, may I know?" Her defiant question posed a challenge.
"I am afraid that my admiration will cause me to cast the evil eye on you!"
exclaimed the sage, past master at witty repartee!
"I like you," Jyeshtha chuckled. "No one has ever paid me a compliment –
in fact, no one even looks at me. They avoid me like the plague." She
paused thoughtfully. "Everyone is afraid of me: except you! Narada, it is
evident that you like me very much. Why don't you marry me?
"Narayana!" Narada was aghast. "I am a born bachelor: this means that I am
ordained to remain single all my life!" he explained urgently. "I certainly
cannot marry anyone!"
"I refuse to accept any of your lame excuses, Narada." Jyeshtha declared
determinedly. "I will not let you evade marriage to me." She moved to the
horrified sage and placed her hand on his shoulder in a possessive gesture.
"Jyeshtha!" Narada shuddered. "Listen to me: the person you marry should
share your remarkable courage. He should be able to gaze unflinchingly
into your beautiful eyes without the least trace of fear. A coward does not
deserve to marry you!"
Jyeshtha's hand slipped from Narada's shoulder. "Are you too afraid of
looking at my face, Narada?" There was a forlorn note in her voice.
"I will be honest with you, Jyeshtha," the sage's eyes were compassionate.
"I belong to the vast majority of males who tremble with fear at your sight!
My remark about the evil eye was only a poor attempt at humour." Narada,
unable to help himself, turned his face away from her. Keeping his gaze
averted, he said kindly: "Continue your search for a male who can tolerate
your physical demeanour."
Jyeshtha heaved a sigh of despair. "Narada, I have crisscrossed the worlds
in my search for a partner who will not be revolted at my sight. I assure
you, in all the expanse of the cosmos, there is not a single soul who can
fearlessly lock eyes with me!"
"There is such a person, Jyeshtha – believe me, I know someone who would
not hesitate to stare intrepidly into your eyes." Narada was emphatic. "Just
as it is almost impossible to look at your face, no one can summon the
courage to gaze at his."
"Is this true, Narada!?" Jyeshtha exclaimed in growing excitement.
"Let me describe this person," continued Narada. "His complexion is as
dark as a storm cloud. His protruding eyes are a terrifying mix of flaming
reds and yellows. It is impossible to look directly into his appalling face.
One glance at his eyes is enough to strike panic into the soul!"
"Oh, can there really be such a handsome male in creation?!" Jyeshtha
exclaimed in delight. "Who is he? Where does he live?" Her voice quivered
in uncontrollable enthusiasm.
Narada, his face still averted from her, asked: "Have you been in the
direction of the golden abode in which Surya dwells?"
"No …" Jyeshtha said hesitantly.
"Then, go in that direction." Narada pointed her towards the correct path.
"There you will meet the person I described," he assured her.
"Who is he, Narada?" she implored him. "Tell me who he is!"
"Very well," Narada smiled. "I will give you a few pointers as to how you
can identify him: he will stand his ground when he sees you; he will not
avert his gaze from your face; just as you look at others fearlessly, he will
look into the depths of your protruding eyes without flinching. When you
meet such a person, you will instinctively know that he is meant to be your
partner for life."
He paused and asked: "Now, will you let me be on my way?"
Only silence greeted his question. Narada looked up cautiously – Jyeshtha
was a rapidly moving speck in the distance!
Far ahead of her, Jyeshtha saw a person coming in her direction: his feeble
figure was thin, almost to the point of emaciation; he walked gingerly, as
though picking his way carefully over sharp stones. Jyeshtha smiled in wry
amusement at the stranger who approached her at a snail's pace.
'Hah!' she thought contemptuously to herself. 'One look at me, and he will
grow wings under his sluggish feet!'
She came face-to-face with the stranger and stopped defiantly To her
amazement, he stood his ground and gazed intently into her eyes. His own
eyes were tiny little goblets of fire, speckled with shades of red and yellow.
His unwavering glance was absolutely devoid of fear. The stranger
continued to stare at her in unblinking fascination. He seemed to be
mesmerized by the glare of her beady, protruding eyes. His face reflected
his admiration for the courage of a woman who could look unflinchingly
into his own terrifying eyes.
"Who are you, you beautiful woman?" he asked.
Hope illuminated Jyeshtha's dark face. The stranger was not repulsed by her
– in fact, he was talking to her! Could this be the person suggested by
Narada?
"First tell me who you are!" she countered.
He drew himself up proudly and said, "I am Sanaischara, son of Chaayadevi
and Surya."
‘And I am Jyeshthadevi," she said in turn. "I emerged from the Ocean of
Milk." She locked eyes with him and declared boldly: "You are the one I
have been searching for – will you marry me?"
Sani did not hesitate. He extended his hand to her and said, "Come, let us
go and obtain my father's permission for our marriage."
Jyeshtha eagerly gave him her hand. They walked together towards Surya's
palace.
"Father," said Sani, "this is Jyeshtha. Like me, she has long been in search
of a partner who could look fearlessly into her eyes. Now, we have found
each other. If you grant us your permission …"
Surya intervened with a smile. "You both have my blessings to become
husband and wife, Sani. We will arrange your marriage at a suitably
auspicious time."
Sani's nuptials were celebrated with all happiness in the presence of
Kasyapa and his wives and Viswakarma and his wife. Surya, Samjna and
Sage Narada joined them in blessing the newly-married couple.
Sani commenced his new life with Jyeshtha.
"We have come to the end of Sani's life history," said Nirvikalpananda. "We
will now move on to the life of Rahu."
He continued: ‘As we know, Rahu, son of Kasyapa's wife, Simhika, and
Ketu, who had originated from Mrtyu's sigh, and was brought up by
Danudevi, another of Kasyapa's wives, have reached manhood. Rahu and
Ketu came into their own at the renowned Churning of the Ocean of Milk.
In order to fully understand these developments, it is essential to first
comprehend the reasons for the Churning of the Ocean of Milk. The
primary cause for the churning was Sage Durvasa …"
"Master," Chidananda interrupted eagerly. "Wasn't Sage Durvasa Lord
Shiva's incarnation – born as Anasuya's son?"
"Yes, my boy," Nirvikalpananda smiled wryly. "He is the one and only
Durvasa! He was extremely short-tempered. He was notorious for his
tendency to pronounce curses at the least provocation – moreover, he would
adamantly refuse to revoke his maledictions! One day, Sage Durvasa was
on his way through a forest…"
The master once again took up his narrative.
OceanofPDF.com
The Life of Rahu
S age Durvasa made his way rapidly through the dense forest. The cool
zephyr caressed his body, making light of his tedious journey. Suddenly, an
exotic fragrance wafted to him on the gentle breeze. Durvasa unconsciously
slowed his pace, inhaling the sweet perfume which delighted his senses. It
pervaded his being and banished all fatigue from his body. The sage
stopped, the better to savour the scent.
His eyes widened in surprise as he perceived a beautiful woman coming
towards him on the narrow track. It was soon evident that the divine
fragrance which enveloped him emanated from her. Durvasa watched in
fascination as the damsel approached - her fluid movements transformed
her walk into a graceful dance. The sage was now aware of the stranger's
identity: it was Menaka, one of the lovely apsaras from Indra's court.
Menaka came to stand before Durvasa and saluted the sage respectfully. He
noted the source of the captivating fragrance which had heralded her
approach: her shapely hands held a garland of divine blossoms.
"May happiness be yours, Menaka!" Durvasa held his right palm in
benediction over her bowed head. He continued: "Menaka, I am captivated
by the garland in your hand. I wish to have it." His words were not couched
in the form of a request – they connoted an obvious command.
"I am indeed fortunate that my handiwork pleases you, Swami," Menaka
meekly acceded to his demand and held out the fragrant garland. "Please
accept this as my humble offering. It has been woven with the divine
blossoms from the Nandana garden."
Durvasa took the garland from her impassively and said, "You may proceed
on your way, Menaka."
The apsara folded her hands in reverence, moved aside and continued on
her path.
Sage Durvasa, garland in hand, resumed his own journey.
Airavata, Indra's royal mount, walked sedately along the broad avenues of
Amaravati, capital of the devas. The elephant resembled a towering
cumulus cloud, sprouting four massive tusks. Indra rode majestically at the
head of a procession witnessed by all the denizens of Swarga. The apsaras
danced in the forefront, accompanied by the music of the gandharvas ,
while the devas lined the avenues, hailing their king.
Sage Durvasa roughly pushed his way through the spectators and came to
stand at a vantage point which offered him an unhindered view of the
procession. The king of the gods, smiling impartially at the onlookers, felt
the unmistakable pull of a powerful gaze: his eyes came to rest on Durvasa.
Indra immediately signaled to Airavata, who came to a halt.
Indra bowed humbly and folded his hands in reverence towards the sage.
Pleased with Indra's show of respect, Durvasa flung his garland up at the
king. Indra reflexively caught it, touched it to his eyes in devout acceptance
and conspicuously inhaled its fragrance. He bowed again to the sage as a
mark of gratitude, casually placed the garland on Airavata's forehead, and
proceeded on his way.
The constant shift and slide of the garland disturbed the royal elephant.
Exasperated by this irritant on its forehead, the animal suddenly grabbed the
garland, dashed it to the ground and stomped on it with its foot – the
delicate flowers were trampled to a pulp!
Sage Durvasa erupted into a frenzy of rage at this sight. "Indra!" he
thundered. "Stop right there!"
Indra froze to a halt and stared at Durvasa in alarm.
"Indra, you insolent fool! Your overweening pride in your kingship has
made you arrogant. You have dared to belittle the gift which I bestowed on
you as a mark of my special blessing. You have humiliated me: you will
now reap the consequences of your behavior!"
The sage drew himself up to his full height and shouted: "Hear me, Indra:
May the grandeur of Swarga vanish without a trace! May all your trappings
of royalty – your elephant, Airavata, your noble stallion, Uchchaisrava, the
heavenly cow, Kaamadhenu, the Kalpavrksha, the precious Chintamani,
your apsaras – may they all be swallowed by the seas! This is the
immutable curse of Durvasa!" Durvasa's malediction reverberated like a
thunderclap in the skies.
The sage abruptly turned away from the horrified spectators and stalked off
in a huff. The shaken Indra jumped down from his mount and hurried after
the sage. He prostrated himself before Durvasa and placed his palms on the
sage's feet in abject supplication.
"Maharshi,” Indra lamented. "This unfortunate incident was a pure
accident. Placing the garland on Airavata's head was merely a reflex on my
part. I beg you to believe me: I would not dream of dishonoring the
renowned Durvasa in any way!" He pleaded with the sage. "I implore you,
Bhagavan: kindly revoke your curse and bless my kingdom."
Durvasa remained unmoved by Indra's humility and protestations of
innocence. The sage glared balefully at the king of the devas and declared:
"The curse is immutable: it was pronounced by none other than Sage
Durvasa! Bear in mind, Indra – revoking a curse is contrary to my very
nature!" The sage's lips curled in contempt. "You pompously call yourself
Indra … DevendraMahendra … Let's see who you are now!"
Durvasa stalked off in high dudgeon, leaving the hapless Indra shuddering
in stark terror. The procession came to a standstill. A pall of gloom
descended on Swarga. Durvasa's curse immediately held sway over Indra's
domain. Before the eyes of the aghast gods, Airavata, Uchchaisrava,
Kaamadhenu, Kalpavrksha, Chintamani, the apsaras – all the treasure of
heaven – vanished into thin air. Indra, denuded of all his power, was now
just one among the lesser gods.
News of the disaster which had befallen Indra soon reached Bali, the king
of the asuras. On the advice of their preceptor, the gleeful rakshasa army
marched on Swarga and routed the impotent devas . The triumphant Bali
declared his sovereignty over the kingdom of heaven.
Nirvikalpananda stopped his narration at the bewildered frowns on his
disciples' faces.
Vimalananda was the first with his question. "Master, you said that
Vrshaparva was the king of the asuras … now you refer to Bali as their
king."
Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "The action in our tale of the
Navagrahas encompasses a tremendous period of time. We have moved
from King Vrshaparva's reign to that of King Bali! Both Vrshaparva and
Bali were Kasyapa's descendants."
The master elaborated: "Who was Vrshaparva? He was the son of
Danudevi, one of Kasyapa prajapatis thirteen wives. You will recall Diti,
another of Kasyapa's wives: her son, Hiranya Kasyapa, was the father of
Prahlada. Bali was born to Virochana, Prahlada's son. This makes King Bali
the grandson of Prahlada, the renowned Vishnu devotee.
"Sukra continued to be the preceptor of successive generations of asuras .
The life of Rahu was contemporaneous with Bali's reign over the rakshasas.
"
He paused for a moment. "Now, let us pick up the threads of our original
story!
"Sage Durvasa's curse reduced Indra and his deva clan into abject paupers:
they became nomads, without shelter or any means of sustenance. On the
contrary, the asuras flourished and grew from strength to strength. Pushed
to the end of his endurance, the hapless Indra, accompanied by Brhaspati,
sought Brahma's intercession. Indra described the deva s' sorry plight and
implored Brahma to restore them to their former wealth and glory."
Nirvikapananda was once again in the thick of his narrative …
Brahma heaved a sigh of regret on hearing Indra's recital of the deva s'
woes.
"Sage Durvasa's curses spread like wildfire: I do not have the power to
check their relentless advance. Let us seek refuge at the feet of my father,
Sri Mahavishnu. Come!" Brahma exhorted his anxious supplicants.
Lord Vishnu listened in silence to Indra and Brhaspati.
"Father," Brahma added his voice to their entreaty, ‘Aditi's sons are in a
pitiable state. It is you alone who can restore them to their former glory."
Lord Vishnu remarked, "As a consequence of Durvasa's binding curse, all
Swarga’s riches and treasure lies at the bottom of the ocean! Even if you
succeed in retrieving your lost wealth, it is obvious that the asuras , under
the leadership of mighty King Bali, will once again snatch it from you. The
devas are powerless in the face of the Mrtasanjeevani, which the asuras
alone possess."
The forlorn Indra looked up at the Lord in silent entreaty.
"Indra," Lord Vishnu continued, "the Mrtasanjeevani restores the dead to
life … there is one power which equals that of this redoubtable mantra:
amrita.” He paused for emphasis. ‘Anyone who drinks the divine amrita
will attain immortality."
“Bhagavan,” Indra asked eagerly, "from where can we obtain this amrita ?"
Lord Vishnu smiled serenely. "It lies in the bowels of the Ocean of Milk.
You must churn the ocean to retrieve the lost Airavata, Uchchaisrava,
Kaamadhenu, Chintamani, Kalpavrksha, apsaras and other treasures of
Swarga. Your labour will also gain you the divine nectar – the amrita will
strengthen you and banish death from your bodies."
"We are indeed blessed, Bhagavan!” Indra was animated by renewed hope
and enthusiasm. "I shall immediately make all preparations for the churning
of the Ocean of Milk."
"Indra," Lord Vishnu cautioned, "the gods alone cannot muster the strength
needed for this formidable task – it can be executed only by the combined
might of the devas and the asuras.” He continued thoughtfully. "You will
have to make the Mandara Mountain your churning–staff. The Mandara's
summit rears to a height of eleven thousand yojanas above the earth's
surface – it burrows into the bowels of the earth for another eleven thousand
yojanas. The mountain, in its entirety of twenty–two thousand yojanas ,
must be uprooted and carried to the shores of the Ocean of Milk. This
grueling feat would be impossible for the devas without the asuras’
support."
Lord Vishnu paused to look at his attentive listeners. "The serpent king,
Vasuki, may be used as the churning–rope. Preliminary to the churning, it is
essential that vast quantities of creepers, herbs, and roots with medicinal
properties, be thrown into the ocean depths."
Brhaspati remarked thoughtfully, "It is evident that the churning of the
ocean will be no easy task!"
Vishnu nodded in agreement. "Indra, arrange a meeting with King Bali and
lay before him your proposal for the joint venture. You must make him an
offer which is so attractive that the asuras cannot possibly turn it down." He
suggested, "Give King Bali your word that you will give the rakshasas half
of the amrita obtained from the ocean. This should be sufficient to motivate
Bali into accepting your proposition."
"But …." Indra was aghast. "Bhagavan! The priceless Mrtasanjeevani is
already a part of their armour – if we give them a share of the amrita as
well, they will be completely immune to defeat and death!"
Lord Vishnu chuckled. "Partnering you in your task of churning the ocean,
and obtaining the divine ambrosia, is the duty of your cousins, the asuras ."
He paused – there was a twinkle in eyes. "However, distributing the amrita
among the deserving will be my particular duty!" He urged Indra on his
way. "Go to Bali and lay your proposal before him, Indra!" he commanded.
Brahma, Brhaspati and Indra bowed in gratitude before Vishnu and made
their departure
King Bali welcomed Brhaspati and Indra to Swarga and indicated his
willingness to give them a hearing.
Indra lost no time in launching into his presentation. "Bali, we have heard
from Lord Vishnu that amrita – the divine nectar of immortality, lies
submerged in the depths of the ocean. We devas plan to churn the Ocean of
Milk to obtain the ambrosia and conquer death for all eternity. The mighty
Mandara Mountain is to be the churning–staff and the serpent, Vasuki, will
serve as the rope. However, this is a task of such a gargantuan magnitude
that it cannot be accomplished by us alone." He paused and locked eyes
with the asura king. "It is patently clear that neither the devas nor the
asuras can lay their hands on the amrita without the others' assistance. I
have a proposal for you: Join hands with us in our venture and we will give
you one half of the amrita as your share of the prize."
King Bali mulled over Indra's words.
As he hesitated, Indra added persuasively: "Come now, Bali – we are not
strangers to each other. When all's said and done, we – the aadityas,
daityas, daanavas, kalakeyas and others – are the descendants of sisters. We
come from common stock. Why then must aggression be our knee– jerk
reaction to each other? It may be impossible for us to live together amicably
as one family: but, surely, we can unite to scale the heights of adventure to
our mutual advantage!"
Brhaspati reinforced Indra's argument: "King Bali, it is eminently fitting
that the devas and asuras, both descendants of Kasyapa prajapati, work
together for their common benefit." Brhaspati turned confidently to his
counterpart, Sukra. "I am sure that the eminent asura–guru, Sukracharya,
agrees with me on this."
Sukra smiled and nodded in approval. "Mahabali, Indra's proposal is very
reasonable and promises to be of definite advantage to us. On the condition
that the asuras receive one half of the amrita , I think we can agree to this."
Bali bowed to the two gurus . "When the preceptors of the devas and the
asuras are of one mind, who am I to differ?! Indra and I bow to your
counsel." He turned to Indra and said: "I accept your proposal."
The preceptors extended their hands in benediction over the two kings.
"May victory be yours!" said Brhaspati.
"So be it!" echoed Sukra.
Bali and Indra sealed their pact with a warm embrace. Brhaspati and Sukra,
in their turn, emulated their kings.
Bali informed the asuras of his pact with the devas. His subjects were
divided as to the wisdom of the coming joint venture.
An elderly rakshasa, bent with age, voiced the opinion of the dissenters:
"Now that we are acquainted with the means of obtaining the amrita , why
do we need to accommodate the aadityas ? Let us churn the ocean on our
own and secure the nectar. It is best to have no truck with those devious
gods."
Another senior asura seconded his comrade. "Bali, think it over: if we
obtain the amrita independently of the devas , it will give us a unilateral
advantage over the gods – combined with the Mrtasanjeevani, we will never
taste defeat again. We will become the immortal masters of the three worlds
for all eternity."
King Bali dismissed their scheming with a loud laugh of derision. "Both of
you are mature in years – but not in mind! It is unethical to kill those who
reach out to us for succor." His voice was firm. "We will contribute equally
to the churning .… and we will receive an equal share of the amrita !"
Preparations for the churning of the Ocean of Milk commenced on a war–
footing. The devas and the asuras busied themselves with the various tasks
assigned to them. At the supplication of the two clans, Adisesha lifted the
Mandara Mountain and transported it to the shore of the ocean on his
mighty coils.
Indra, accompanied by Bali, Brhaspati and Sukra led a delegation to Vasuki,
the serpent king. They requested the serpent to serve as their churning–rope,
promising to give him a share of the amrita as his reward.
Vasuki smiled at Indra in agreement. ‘After all, I am the eldest son of
Kadru, your mother's own sister – this makes you my brother." He turned to
the asura king. "And who is Bali? He is my grandson. It will be my
pleasure to assist you both in the churning of the ocean!"
To Kasyapa's surprise, Rahu and Ketu came running pell-mell toward the
hermitage. They came to a stop before him, excitement writ large on their
faces.
"Father," Rahu burst into speech. "I have great tidings! The devas and the
asuras have formed a pact: they plan to collaborate in the churning of the
Ocean of Milk in order to obtain amrita !"
"Churning of the Ocean of Milk?!" Kasyapa exclaimed in astonishment.
"For amrita ?"
"Yes, father," Ketu reiterated eagerly. "Indra met our King Bali and sought
his assistance. They plan to use the Mandara Mountain as the churning-
staff. And I heard that amrita is a medicine which will make us immortal!"
"We have decided to follow the asura army in this venture, father," Rahu
declared.
"My sons, do not rush recklessly into adventure. There is no need to crave
this amrita. Remain here and savour the delights of a tranquil life."
"And what is your objection to my son gaining immortality?"
Kasyapa looked up in astonishment at the sarcastic words – Simhika stood
over him, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Simhika …!"
"Rahu and Ketu: you do need to beg anybody for their permission to drink
the divine amrita !"
Danudevi's lips curled in contempt as she came to stand in solidarity beside
Simhika. She urged the duo: "Go ahead, my sons!"
Rahu and Ketu, smiling proudly, left on their eager quest.
On the shore of the Ocean of Milk, the serpent king, Vasuki, coiled himself
around the Mandara Mountain: the churning-rod and rope were ready. The
devas picked up Vasuki's head and lined up against his front torso.
The asuras immediately protested: "Why should we belittle ourselves by
carrying the snake's hind quarters?!"
The gods peaceably bowed to their demand and moved to Vasuki's tail,
leaving the asura’s to hold the snake's head.
The gods and the asuras commenced to pull the serpent-rope back and
forth, churning the waters of the ocean. However, the mammoth Mandara
Mountain, lacking equilibrium, began to sink into the ocean bed.
Lord Vishnu immediately assumed the form of a giant turtle and dived into
the ocean. He supported the mountain on his broad back, measuring an
incredible one lakh yojanas in width. The prodigious churning of the ocean
now proceeded unhindered, with the devas and asuras working
enthusiastically in tandem.
Suddenly, dense, toxic fumes rose from the water, emitting angry sparks: it
was the dreadful poison, Haalaahala. In abject terror, the devas and asuras
dropped the churning-rope and ran helter-skelter in panic. On Brahma's
advice, the gods implored Lord Shiva to come to their aid and shield the
worlds from this poisonous deluge.
Lord Shiva instantaneously appeared on the scene. The Lord extended his
right hand, adorned with the serpent-bracelet, over the ocean and intoned
the syllable Hum. As the profound vibrations of Lord Shiva's Humkaara
resonated over the three worlds, the sinister spread of the poison was
dammed. The liquid toxin solidified into a vaporous, dark cloud, which
quickly metamorphosed into a black elephant. This is turn rapidly assumed
the smaller form of a boar and then, a jet-black cuckoo. Finally, the toxic
Haalaahala was reduced to the form of a tiny rose- apple, glowing on Lord
Shiva's palm.
Shiva – Lord Vaidyanath, the Master of Medicine, swallowed the rose-
apple with a serene smile, and immobilized it in his gullet. The globule of
poison gleamed like a blue diamond under the translucent, white skin of his
throat.
A murmur of awe rippled through the gathered company, which broke into
spontaneous chants of "Nilakantha!" "Nilakantha!" glorifying Lord Shiva's
feat with a new name. The Blue-Throated One serenely accepted their
homage and advised the devas and asuras to resume their interrupted
churning of the Ocean of Milk.
The venture continued rapidly under the deafening roar of the agitated
water, which drenched the participants in a cascading spray.
Eventually, a woman emerged from the ocean. The curious spectators were
instantly repulsed by her hideous demeanour: red eyes protruded from a
black-complexioned, ugly face; her smile was a grimace and her coarse
laughter grated on their ears. In one accord, the devas and asuras turned
away from the stranger in patent revulsion.
The woman approached the Trimurti, who stood overseeing the churning of
the Ocean of Milk. Unable to stand the sight of the repugnant woman, the
three Gods, in their turn, averted their eyes. However, the hapless Brahma,
with his four faces, was forced to endure her in his view.
"Who am I?" the woman questioned the Holy Trinity. "What is my
purpose?"
Lord Shiva and Brahma turned to Lord Vishnu, deferring to him.
Taking the initiative, Lord Vishnu said: "As you are the first to emerge from
the ocean, you are Jyeshtha – the eldest. You will henceforth be known as
Jyeshthadevi. It is evident that you are the embodiment of ill-omened traits:
as such, you will also be known as Alakshmi and Moodevi."
"Jyeshthadevi … Alakshmi … Moodevi … " Jyeshtha grimaced in hideous
satisfaction. "And where is my dwelling place?"
‘As you are the goddess of inauspiciousness, you will be found in all bleak
places where misfortune and adversity reign." Lord Vishnu gestured to her
in curt dismissal. "Go and take up your abode in all such places!"
To the relief of all present, Jyeshtha moved silently away, her distorted body
fading into the distance.
After another period of prolonged churning, an eight-petalled lotus in full
bloom floated up from the surface of the ocean, holding Sri Mahalakshmi
tenderly in its folds. All the devas and asuras bowed reverentially in
instinctive response to her exquisite, ethereal beauty. Mahalakshmi gazed at
Vishnu with her limpid, lotus-petal-like eyes. Lord Vishnu, exhilarated by
this exquisite apparition, held out his arms and received her into his
embrace.
A crescent moon now rose from the agitated waters and hovered in the air.
Lord Shiva, burning with the toxic fire of the Haalaahala which he had
ingested and arrested in his throat, picked the silver arc and placed it on his
matted locks. From there, the crescent moon shed its cool light on the Lord.
Next came the precious gem, Kaustubha, which Lord Vishnu accepted to
adorn his sacred chest.
This was followed in quick succession by the divine flowering plant, the
parijatha, Uchchaisrava, Airavata, Kamadhenu, Kalpavrksha and all the
other heavenly objects. Indra received the apsaras who next emerged from
the ocean and gladly took possession of all his former wealth, ejected from
Swarga by Durvasa's malediction.
Enthused by the bounty pouring from the Ocean of Milk, the gods and
demons threw themselves into their churning with renewed vigor.
Soon, a divine individual emerged from the ocean. His red eyes gleamed
from his blue-complexioned face, framed by lustrous, black tresses. His
radiant chest was adorned with a myriad gold ornaments. His hands
reverentially carried a kalasa . This was Dhanvantari, bearing the pot of
divine amrita . Dhanvantari walked sedately towards the shore, stepping
softly on the tides. He reached the shore, to the dignified applause of the
watching devas .
Suddenly, an asura rushed to intercept him, snatched the precious pot from
his hands and took to his heels. A second asura set out in hot pursuit,
jumped on his fleeing comrade, and forcibly relieved him of the kalasa .
The demon with the prize himself became the victim of attack by yet
another covetous rakshasa . The pot of nectar changed hands in quick
succession as the demons fought recklessly over it.
Indra and his company of devas were aghast at the turn of events. They
watched in consternation as the asuras’ fight deteriorated into a free-for-all.
The anxious gods tuned to Lord Vishnu for guidance. Lord Vishnu placated
them with a reassuring smile.
Before their astonished eyes, he transformed himself into Mohini – a
damsel of extraordinary beauty. The gods were spellbound by her charm:
momentarily, it even slipped their minds that this lovely damsel was none
other than Lord Vishnu!
On their part, the asuras stared entranced at Mohini's captivating grace: to
them, she was the very embodiment of all things beautiful. The sight of the
lovely damsel was enough to banish all thoughts of the amrita from their
minds. Lord Vishnu's mesmerizing charm engulfed the asuras’ psyche like
a thick fog shrouding the landscape.
The demon who currently held the pot of amrita meekly approached
Mohini with an obsequious smile. "It is obvious that you are here solely to
look out for our welfare," he said ingratiatingly. "We are all great warriors,
descended from the celebrated lineage of Sage Kasyapa prajapati. We have
obtained the amrita by churning the Ocean of Milk. And now, we have been
reduced to fighting among ourselves over our share of the spoils." He
bowed to her. "We are captivated by your beauty and seek your help. Will
you be kind enough to distribute the amrita among us?"
Mohini took in the nodding faces of the encircling crowd of demons, who
chorused: "Yes, this beauty is the one who deserves the honour of
distributing the nectar of immortality!"
Mohini darted a coquettish look at the excited asuras milling around her
and said sweetly: "As a woman, I cannot show any partiality in the serving
of food. The devas and the asuras are equal in my sight. I am aware that
both of you are descendants of Kasyapa prajapati. You have also shared in
the prodigious labour of churning the ocean. I will distribute the amrita
among all of you."
She went on to bestow a ravishing smile on the demons and cajoled them
into an orderly file. Seduced by her charm, the asuras acceded to her
proposal and docilely seated themselves in a row. They graciously
beckoned the gods to come forward and sit in a parallel row.
Letting her upper garment fall sensuously from her shoulder in apparent
carelessness, Mohini took the pot of nectar from the hands of the compliant
asura . Completely bewitched by her seductive grace, the demons drank in
her beauty with hungry eyes – while the discerning gods drank the amrita
she surreptitiously served them!
However, Rahu and Ketu were not taken in by Mohini's devious charade.
Their keen eyes saw Mohini dispensing the nectar of immortality to the
gods. Rahu bent his head and whispered suggestively to Ketu, who sat
beside him. In a twinkling, the duo assumed the guise of devas and
stealthily joined the row of gods. Their transformation passed unnoticed,
escaping the attention of both gods and demons and of Mohini, preoccupied
with the distribution of the amrita. However, Surya and Chandra, more
perceptive than their comrades, spotted the clever machinations of the two
asuras and alerted Mohini.
Lord Vishnu immediately resumed his true form and beheaded Rahu and
Ketu with his Sudarshana chakra. However, by the time the whirling golden
discus reached them, the nectar consumed by the asuras had passed into
their throats. Consequently, their heads remained alive – even when
separated from their lifeless torsos.
The scales fell from the asuras’ eyes. Aware that they had been cheated,
they went on the rampage and attacked the devas . A terrible battle ensued,
in which the demons suffered heavy casualties. Securing the pot of amrita ,
the gods, under Indra, triumphantly returned to Swarga with their recovered
wealth and treasure.
Sukra invoked the Mrtasanjeevani to bring the dead asuras back to life.
King Bali gathered his dejected subjects and returned to his own asura
kingdom with a heavy heart.
Rahu and Ketu made their way back to the hermitage, minus their bodies.
Kasyapa and his wives were aghast at the sight of Rahu and Ketu's arrival
in the form of talking heads.
Rahu elaborated on the course of events which had resulted in their sorry
plight. His mother, Simhika, and Danudevi, Ketu's foster mother, burst into
loud lamentation, while their wives, Simhi and Chitralekha, gave way to a
paroxysm of sobs. The women could not digest the fact that Rahu and Ketu
had irrevocably lost their torsos. Kasyapa, Aditi, Diti and the others in the
family tried in vain to comfort the grief-stricken women.
Rahu's only son, Meghahasa, flew into a towering rage at the misfortune
which had befallen his father and uncle.
Kasyapa attempted to placate him: "Meghahasa, this is the will of the
Supreme God. Lord Vishnu ordains the unfolding of every development in
the three worlds. It must be conceded that Rahu and Ketu were at fault: like
everyone else, they should have awaited their turn to receive the amrita . It
was their rash behavior which led to their doom."
Diti glared accusingly at her husband. "To hear you talk, one would think
that you are the father of Aditi's children alone! Supported by Vishnu,
Aditi's sons constantly slaughter my sons, along with the sons of Danu and
my other sisters." She lashed out furiously at Kasyapa. ‘After all, Rahu and
Ketu are Surya's cousins through his mother: was he not at fault in
implicating them?"
"Yes," Danu added her angry criticism, "It was Surya and Chandra who
were instrumental in Vishnu's beheading of Rahu and Ketu!"
"Tell me – who is to take care of Simhi and Chitralekha?" Simhika
upbraided Kasyapa. "How will they live with husbands who do not have
torsos?"
At these words, Simhi and Chitralekha burst into a fresh bout of weeping.
"My dear mothers, do not abandon yourselves to despair – dry your tears."
Meghahasa straightened his shoulders in determination and looked into his
mother, Simhi's eyes. "Mother, I, Meghahasa, Rahu's son, am very much
alive. Furthermore, I still have a torso with a head attached to it! I will not
close my eyes in slumber until I restore their bodies to my father and
uncle!"
"Meghahasa …" Rahu was dumbstruck, his eyes brimming with tears of
pride and happiness.
"Megha," Ketu exclaimed, "your words give me renewed hope!"
"I will perform penance to propitiate Lord Shiva of Kailash!" Meghahasa
declared. "I will implore him to restore your bodies to you." Meghahasa
hurried from the ashram on his urgent quest.
Simhidevi and Chitralekha tenderly gathered their husbands' heads, which
were suspended in the air, and pressed them to their breasts.
Meghahasa commenced his penance. On hearing about this development
through Sage Narada, the anxious Indra sought Brhaspati's advice.
"Master," Indra said, "Lord Vishnu beheaded Rahu and Ketu as punishment
for disguising themselves as devas."
"Yes, Mahendra," agreed Brhaspati. "That is something which is widely
known."
"Sage Narada now informs me that Meghahasa, Rahu's son, is engaged in
penance to bring about the restoration of their torsos." He paused. "I say we
disrupt his tapas before it is too late. What do you think, gurudev ?"
"Indra, the entire clan of asuras remains our arch-enemy – and all of them
have their complete bodies. In the event of Rahu and Ketu regaining their
lost bodies, this will in no way enhance the threat they pose to the devas."
Brhaspati smiled reassuringly at the king of the gods. "By all means, let
Rahu and Ketu become whole again: it will not affect us in any way!"
Indra heaved a sigh of relief. "In that case, I find Meghahasa's tapas
admirable!"
Meghahasa's penance grew in intensity until the extraordinary heat
generated by it compelled Lord Shiva to grant him his darshan .
"My boy," Shiva asked, "what do you desire from me?"
"Bhagavan , kindly restore to my father, Rahu, and his brother, Ketu, the
bodies which were sundered by Vishnu." Meghahasa folded his hands in
supplication. "Also grant them power which surpasses the might of Surya
and Chandra, who were instrumental in their decapitation and subsequent
misery."
"Meghahasa," said Lord Shiva, "it is impossible to restore Rahu and Ketu's
torsos, which were severed by Sri Mahavishnu with his Sudarsana chakra.”
He paused. "However, I will make an amendment to ameliorate their
present condition: in the eyes of all onlookers, Rahu and Ketu will appear to
be whole."
"I am indeed blessed!" exclaimed Meghahasa in delight.
‘As for your second wish," continued Shiva, "I grant it in its entirety."
Lord Shiva raised his hand in benediction and disappeared.
Rahu and Ketu's wives, Simhidevi and Chitraleka, erupted into happiness at
the sight of their husbands entering the hermitage with their heads once
again appended to their bodies.
"My son has succeeded in his penance!" Simhika said proudly, eyes
brimming with tears of joy.
"Sister, Meghahasa is my son, too!" exclaimed Chitralekha, wiping her tear-
streaked face. "My husband and I are indebted to him for eternity!"
Meghahasa returned to the hermitage to bask in his happiness at the sight of
Rahu and Ketu with their whole bodies.
"Father … Uncle …" he said in triumph. "Lord Shiva has granted you both
the potential to surpass the might of Surya and Chandra. He has also
ordained that you will soon attain a status equal to theirs!"
"Son, your tidings gladden my heart!" exclaimed Rahu. His eyes darkened.
"We will avenge ourselves on Surya and Chandra for the wrong done to us:
this will make the boon you obtained on our behalf truly meaningful."
Rahu and Ketu sat on the banks of the river watching the rays of the setting
sun paint the sky in vibrant hues of purple and gold. They remained
oblivious to the beauty lavished on them. Rahu's eyes were hard and his
flushed face mirrored the fire of vengeance which consumed his soul.
"Ketu," he said in cold determination. "It is time to wreak our vengeance on
Surya."
"Brother, what can we do?" Ketu asked.
"Lord Shiva has granted us manifold powers. We will use them to make
Surya invisible to the worlds – and the worlds invisible to him!" He
continued angrily. "He prevented us from swallowing the amrita : now, we
will swallow him!"
"That would be befitting punishment, indeed!" Ketu applauded.
The sun sank into the horizon and darkness blanketed the three worlds.
Rahu and Ketu remained silent, engrossed in schemes to satisfy their
burning desire for revenge.
"Brother …" Ketu said hesitantly. "Is it possible for us to consume and
digest Surya?"
Rahu shook his head vehemently. "Digesting him would be irrevocable: that
is not sufficient punishment for him. He must undergo continuous torment!"
His eyes gleamed in hatred. "Surya flaunts his power only during the
daytime – that is when we must bring him to his knees! We will swallow
him during the day and vomit him at night!"
"Bravo! What a wonderful plan!" Ketu jumped up in enthusiasm. "That
would indeed be suitable punishment for Surya." He pointed to the rising
moon in the west. ‘And what about Chandra?" he asked.
"We will deal with him in the same way: we will wreak vengeance on them
by swallowing Surya by day and Chandra by night!"
"Great! We will demonstrate our combined might by taking chances in
swallowing them," Ketu said defiantly.
"I will swallow Surya: Chandra is yours!" Rahu stood up determinedly.
Ketu looked up at the moon and gnashed his teeth. "Surya and Chandra will
endure eternal torment: we will teach them a fitting lesson for the injustice
meted out to us!" "
They will suffer agonies in our abdomens!" Rahu declared in smug menace.
Sage Kasyapa, in the midst of his morning ablutions at the river, looked up
in surprise at the sky – there was a definite decrease in the sun's radiance!
He kept his fascinated eyes glued to the sun as an extraordinary scene
unfolded before him …
A dim patch appeared on one edge of the golden orb. The dark silhouette
spread inexorably over the sun's surface and engulfed it in its entirety. The
sun was now completely masked by a black disc. The rising sun had
vanished, taking with it its heat and light!
Kasyapa, completely at sea as to this abnormal phenomenon, walked
rapidly back to his hermitage in the unnatural darkness.
The unexplained, abrupt disappearance of the rising sun threw the three
worlds into premature darkness. Time came to a standstill, with routines in
shambles and nature herself coming to a confused halt. The lotuses which
unfolded in response to the warmth of the sun's gentle rays shrunk and
wilted.
Kasyapa's hermitage was in an uproar, as the sun's disappearance was
excitedly discussed.
Simhika, Danu, Simhidevi and Chitralekha soon recovered from their initial
shock. Once Ketu explained the cause of Surya's absence from the daytime
sky, they exulted in Rahu's triumph over his nemesis.
Aditi, overhearing their excited talk, rushed to Kasyapa to report that Rahu
had swallowed Surya in vindictive fury. Aditi, eyes brimming with tears,
implored her husband to go to Surya's aid.
Kasyapa heaved a sigh of regret. ‘Aditi," he said, "What you ask of me is
beyond my power." His pitying eyes reflected his helplessness. "This
disastrous state of affairs will not be confined to one day: Rahu and Ketu
will persist in their vendetta. Remember, they possess the inherent tamasic
qualities of rakshasas: as such, they will not give up their aggressive
tactics."
"Do you mean to say that nothing can be done while the one who bestows
life-giving heat and light to the worlds is … "
Kasyapa hushed her indignant outburst with a conciliatory smile and said,
"Aditi, the Supreme God, Vishnu, who blessed you with Surya, will deal
with this – let us leave matters in his eminently capable hands!"
As night fell, Rahu released Surya from his confinement. Surya emerged,
disoriented and drowsy.
Rahu looked at Surya in gloating triumph and crowed: "You made Vishnu
decapitate us with his discus once – just once!" Rahu laughed harshly. "But
our vengeance will inflict unrelenting torment on you. Rahu and Ketu will
punish you through all eternity!"
Compressed in the dark recesses of Rahu's abdomen all day, Surya was now
debilitated and completely depleted of energy. His crushed body screamed
out in agony at the unprecedented, cruel punishment it had endured. He
deduced the primary reason for his alarming condition: his body had been
ravaged by the contaminated saliva in Rahu's mouth. His sense of
humiliation and outrage added salt to his wounds.
Samjna rushed to meet him as he entered his palace. "Swami!" she cried out
anxiously. "What ill has befallen you? Why was it dark during the day?
What is the meaning of this?"
"Samjna," replied Surya wearily. "You know that I pointed out Rahu and
Ketu to Lord Vishnu when they attempted to obtain the amrita in the guise
of devas . It appears that they have been nursing a deep resentment against
me." He continued with a wry smile. "Rahu has warned me that today was
but the first day of his revenge – he will persist in swallowing me every
day!"
"Swami!" Samjna gasped in alarm. "Do they truly possess such power?"
"Yes, they do," Surya was forced to concede. "Rahu proved it by
swallowing me today."
"But, Swami …" Samjna was distraught. "What will happen to you if they
repeatedly swallow you as they threaten to do?"
Surya shook off his lethargy and straightened his shoulders. "They will not
succeed, Samjna." His voice was resolute. "Today, Rahu demonstrated his
might – tomorrow I, Surya, will demonstrate mine!"
The next morning, the sun rose in sedate glory. Rahu, concealed behind a
bank of clouds, burst out of hiding and gave a bark of sarcastic laughter. His
cavernous mouth yawned open to reveal terrifying rows of vicious teeth.
His moist red tongue seemed to be dripping blood.
"Surya!" Rahu taunted. "What an auspicious morning! Come, it is time for
you to enjoy your usual repose in the cool darkness of my stomach!" Rahu
approached Surya with his mouth open wide.
Suddenly, the sun's core underwent a dramatic transformation. Phenomenal
heat radiated outwards to the corona – the sun was now a raging ball of
fury. Tongues of flame streaked out to lash the atmosphere. In the twinkling
of an eye, the east became an ocean of fire.
Rahu's headlong rush towards Surya grinded to an abrupt halt. The blast of
the inferno hit him head-on. The acrid odour of his own singed hair
assaulted his nostrils. He hung in the air, frozen in terror, unable to believe
the evidence of his eyes.
The ball of fire grew redder by the moment. The outraged Surya erupted
into a frenzy of hot rage, hurling heatwaves in every direction. Rahu felt
himself being engulfed by the fiery tides and pulled relentlessly towards the
heart of the inferno. Breaking into a sweat of panic, Rahu, fearing that he
would be reduced to ashes if he lingered, turned tail and fled to safety.
"Come on, Rahu! The day remains auspicious: come and swallow me!"
Surya taunted the asura. "Let us see your vengeance!"
Surya's loud, mocking laughter followed Rahu as the asura made his
ignominious retreat.
Surya, wearing his intense heat as a protective armour against Rahu's
depredation, sedately continued on his routine diurnal journey, beaming in
triumph.
However, the abnormally high temperature, which fended off Rahu, also
ravaged the entire cosmos. The waters of the oceans and rivers evaporated
in the shimmering heat. Rocks, and the exposed mountains themselves,
developed cracks and splintered in self-combustion. Surya's rampant fury
brought the universe to the brink of fiery catastrophe.
Indra and Brhaspati were bewildered by the strange absence of Surya one
day, and the alarming magnification of his heat on the next. As they
struggled in vain to comprehend the reasons for these dangerous
developments, they heard the chant: "Narayana!"
They turned with eager relief to Sage Narada who explained: "Rahu has
been nursing a grudge against Surya right from the day of his decapitation
by Lord Vishnu for attempting to obtain the amrita in disguise. In revenge,
Rahu swallowed Surya, shrouding the worlds in darkness. Surya, having
experienced a day's agony in the confines of Rahu's stomach, has now
transformed himself into a fiery ball to repel the asura’s attacks."
"What about the dangerous repercussions of this feud on all living beings in
the three worlds?" Indra asked in agitation. "What will happen?"
"Narayana!" exclaimed Narada in helpless chagrin. "That is a question you
must direct to my father, Brahma!"
Indra rose hurriedly to his feet saying, "Gurudev, there is no time to be lost:
let us go!"
In urgent tones, Indra gave Brahma his account of the catastrophe facing the
worlds as a result of Surya's defensive reaction to Rahu's offensive.
"Sage Narada advised us to seek your aid, your eminence," Brhaspati
added.
"Hmm …" Brahma mulled over the circumstances. "We seem to be caught
on the horns of a dilemma: if Surya reduces his intensity to normal levels,
he faces the risk of being swallowed by Rahu yet again; on the other hand,
if he maintains his protective stance, the animate and inanimate worlds are
in danger of annihilation." Brahma heaved a sigh. "This is beyond me – I
can see no way out of this predicament!"
The Creator came to a quick decision: "Our only option is to seek Sri
Mahavishnu's intercession."
Indra bowed in acceptance of this proposal. "We will go at once to Sri Hari,
Bhagavan.”
"Mahendra," Brahma said. "This is a very grave situation. I will accompany
you."
Lord Vishnu gave the delegation a patient hearing. He smiled serenely and
said: "If Surya does not reduce the intensity of his heat, the worlds and their
inhabitants are in danger . if he does decrease his temperature, he himself is
in danger– Under these circumstances, Surya has no choice but to maintain
his fiery form. At the same time, the three worlds must be shielded from the
intolerable radiation. This calls for a force to be permanently deployed in
front of Surya in order to filter the heat emitted by him and reduce it to
bearable levels."
"Father," said Brahma humbly. "You alone can tell us where such a
powerful shield can be found."
"Bhagavan, what is that force?" Indra asked eagerly.
Lord Vishnu's eyes twinkled. "Not 'what,' Indra, but 'who': ask me 'who' that
force is!"
Brahma, Indra, Brhaspati and Narada looked at the Lord expectantly.
"That force is none other than Aruna, the thigh-less!" proclaimed Lord
Vishnu.
‘Aruna!" Brahma exclaimed in astonishment.
"Yes," said the Lord. "He is Kasyapa's son by his wife, Vinata. In spite of
lacking lower limbs, Aruna's body possesses the strength to absorb and
filter Surya's heat. Brahma, it is your duty to convince Aruna to take up his
permanent station before Surya on his chariot."
Brahma obediently saluted Lord Vishnu. The rest of the company followed
suit and took their leave of Sri Mahavishnu.
"Master!" Chidananda pointed out eagerly. "You have not related the story
of Aruna's birth."
"Aruna's birth had no relevance to our earlier narrative," Nirvikalpananda
replied. "Now that he enters the picture, I will give you the complete details
of his origin and life.
"I have already told you how Kasyapa prajapati’s wives, Vinata and Kadru,
asked him for children. While Kadru wished for a thousand Naga sons,
Vinata desired two sons of formidable strength.
"Sage Kasyapa granted their wishes. In due course, Kadru delivered one
thousand eggs and Vinata, two. The sage cautioned them to keep the eggs
carefully in pots of ghee and protect them. After a few days, Kadru's eggs
hatched and Vasuki, Sesha, Iravatha, Takshaka and other serpents emerged
from them. However, to Vinata's disappointment, her eggs remained
unchanged.
"As the days passed, Vinata grew increasingly anxious. Her younger sister
was now a mother, but she herself continued to be childless! She watched
her eggs with growing impatience. Finally, reaching the end of her
endurance, she removed one of eggs from the pot of ghee and dropped it on
the ground. A baby boy emerged from the broken shell: to Vinata's horror,
as a result of her impetuosity, the infant was only half-developed and had
no limbs beneath his waist. This boy was Aruna. He is also called Anoora –
the thigh-less one.
"Aruna was furious with his mother for rashly breaking the egg before the
complete development of his body. Blaming her for his deformity, Aruna
cursed her to become her sister Kadru's slave. He strictly commanded her to
leave the other egg in the pot of ghee. He assured her that it would hatch in
its own good time and a brother of great strength would emerge from it.
This son would procure her freedom from her slavery. With this advice,
Aruna stoically bid his mother farewell and flew into the vast expanse of
the sky," Nirvikalpananda said.
"Master, did Aruna get married?" asked Vimalananda.
"Yes, Vimalananda," Nirvikalpananda said. ‘Aruna accepted Syeni as his
wife and had two sons." He smiled at his four listeners. "You know who
they are: one is Sampaati and the other is Jataayu. Both these eagles feature
in the Ramayana ."
"Master," Sanananda asked curiously, "what happened to Vinata's other
egg?"
"As Aruna predicted, a golden bird of awesome strength emerged from the
second egg: it was none other than Garuda!" The master paused as the
disciples exclaimed in wonder. ‘After freeing his mother from slavery,
Garuda left to become Sri Mahavishnu's vehicle. And now, let us return to
Rahu's life story! Bowing to Lord Vishnu's command, Brahma appeared
before Aruna …"
Aruna prostrated himself before Brahma.
"May happiness be yours!" said Brahma in blessing.
"Bhagavan,” Aruna retorted, "how can this deformed being experience
happiness?"
"Aruna," smiled Brahma, "I am here for the express purpose of showing
you the path which leads to happiness and universal respect."
Aruna waited expectantly for the Creator to continue.
"Lord Vishnu has sent me here to command you to sit before Surya on his
chariot. I hereby appoint you Surya's charioteer."
"Bhagavan!” exclaimed the surprised Aruna. "May I know the reason for
this sudden appointment?"
Brahma acquainted Aruna with the prevailing circumstances: "Rahu
swallowed Surya in an act of vengeance. In order to protect himself from
further threats, Surya has increased his temperature to unendurable heights.
Consequently, the worlds are buffeted by dangerous heat waves." Brahma
urged his listener: ‘Aruna, you alone have the strength to filter Surya's heat.
That is why we choose you to be his charioteer. Bow to my request and … "
Aruna intervened quickly. "Bhagavan , I willingly accept your command as
a boon bestowed on me – it is a mark of honour! After all, Surya is the son
of my mother's elder sister, Aditi – I am fortunate to serve my elder brother
as his charioteer. I am grateful to you for your grace." Aruna folded his
hands in reverence.
Syeni, Aruna's wife, came to pay her respects to Brahma. Bowing to the
Creator, she said: "Bhagavan, I beg you to bless my husband by making
him whole."
Brahma's eyes were compassionate. "Syeni, your desire stems from your
deep affection. However, any achievement by a person who is whole in
body does not stand out – it is not a victory in the true sense of the word!"
Brahma's next words rang with conviction: "Aruna will prove to the world
that a physical deformity is neither a curse nor an obstacle to achievement.
Your husband will stand as the role model for all handicapped mortals and
inspire them to great heights of accomplishment!"
"Your will is our treasure, my Lord!" Syeni said.
‘Aruna," Brahma extended his hand. "Come, my son."
Aruna took the Creator's hand and both of them vanished together on their
urgent mission.
Surya strode briskly towards his chariot, heating himself up for the day
ahead. He stopped in his tracks at Brahma's sudden appearance. To his
surprise, the Lord held a stranger by the hand: it was a person with a
partially developed body.
Surya folded his hands in reverence and saluted Brahma, who raised his
own hand in benediction.
"Surya," Brahma introduced the stranger. "This is Aruna: he is none other
than your younger brother."
"Younger brother?" Surya frowned in bewilderment.
"Yes, brother," Aruna replied. "I am the son of Vinata: your mother's
younger sister. I am Aruna – also called Anoora." Aruna greeted Surya with
respectfully folded hands.
Surya embraced Aruna warmly.
Lord Brahma explained the circumstances. "Surya, you are under constant
danger of being swallowed by Rahu and Ketu at the first opportune
moment. On the other hand, the flaming protective shield you have assumed
in defense is wreaking havoc on the atmospheric balance. The worlds are
reeling under the onslaught of your phenomenal heat." He continued, "Your
brother, Aruna, has the strength to regulate your temperature – he will
absorb your rays and filter them to endurable levels. Your life-giving rays
will then reach the three worlds and bless them with prosperity as before.
Position Aruna before you on the yoke of your chariot and accept him as
your charioteer."
Surya folded his hands and bowed in acceptance. "I am indeed blessed!" he
said.
As commanded by Brahma, Surya installed Aruna as his charioteer and
took his own place behind him. Immediately, Surya's excessive heat was
tempered by Aruna, who sat before him as a protective shield.
Brahma smiled contentedly at the pair and raised his hand in benediction
over them.
The astonished Rahu and Ketu noted the abrupt drop in Surya's
temperature.
"Brother Rahu!" exclaimed Ketu. "It looks like the tide is turning in our
favour! Come, let's not waste time in swallowing Surya – it's my turn now:
I will show him what I'm made of!"
Rahu was more circumspect. "Let's first find out what's happening and then
decide on our course of action," he said.
Concealing themselves behind a thick cloud in Surya's path, the asuras
eagerly awaited his arrival. Soon, his glittering chariot appeared in the
distance. To their surprise, an individual with an obviously deformed
physique sat on the chariot's yoke, blocking Surya from their view. And, to
their further amazement, Surya's heat was now reduced to normal levels.
Gradually, it dawned on the bewildered asuras that it was the strange
charioteer who was instrumental in filtering and absorbing Surya's
abnormal radiation.
"Brother," urged Ketu, in impetuous excitement. "Let's quickly swallow
them both!"
Rahu cautioned his brother. "Ketu, we cannot attack the charioteer. He is
the shield which protects all the beings of the worlds, including you and me,
from the threat of Surya's intolerable heat waves. It is essential to the
survival of the universe that Surya's heat remains confined to bearable
levels." He continued thoughtfully: "We will have to bide our time and wait
patiently until we can catch Surya unguarded and at his normal
temperature."
Ketu was bitterly disappointed. "When can I swallow him? How I want to
punish him right now!"
"We'll do one thing!" Rahu consoled his brother. "We will show ourselves
to Surya in an indirect show of strength and make it clear to him that we are
constantly on the alert to attack him: he will not have a moment's peace of
mind!"
Rahu and Ketu waited in ambush for Surya. As the chariot drew near, the
asuras burst out of hiding and heckled the vehicle's two passengers with
loud jeers and raucous laughter.
Aruna turned to Surya in interrogation. Surya remained coolly self-
possessed. ‘Aruna," he said in imperturbable composure. "Keep going. Do
not halt the chariot."
Aruna, obeying his instructions, asked, "But, brother – who are they?"
"They are also our father's sons." Surya replied. "Keep going now – I will
explain everything to you later."
Surya gave Rahu and Ketu an impassive stare as he passed on.
Kasyapa prajapati stood in the ashram grounds, surrounded by a happy
crowd: Aditi, Vinata and Kadru, relief writ large on their faces, rejoiced at
Surya's escape and his return to his normal condition.
"Swami," Aditi addressed her husband. "Surya has reduced his temperature
to regular levels."
"As always, your son considers the welfare of the three worlds," Sage
Kasyapa smiled benignly at her.
Aditi did not return his smile. "Swami , Surya has lowered the abnormal
intensity of his radiation. He is now vulnerable to attack once more. I am
worried that Rahu and Ketu may go on the offensive again!"
"Narayana!" Everyone looked up at Sage Narada's familiar chant.
"Now, now," Narada reassured Aditi. "There is nothing to worry about! In
practical terms, Surya has not lowered his guard: he remains well-protected
by the fiery defense mechanism he has assumed." He smiled at the
assembled gathering: "As ordained by Sri Mahavishnu, Brahma has
positioned an individual of formidable strength in front of Surya as his
charioteer. It is this living shield which regulates the heat waves radiating
from Surya and defends the worlds from the ravages of his fiery rays."
"Oh, this is good news indeed, Sage Narada," said Kasyapa. "By the way,
who is this mighty person who shields the cosmos from our son's
destructive heat?"
Narada's eyes twinkled. "That great person is none other than this great
person's son!" The sage pointed laughingly at Kasyapa.
"What?!" exclaimed the bewildered Kasyapa.
"Yes," Narada said with a smile. "It is Vinatadevi's son, Aruna, born with an
unformed body."
Kasyapa, along with Aditi and her sisters, turned to Vinata in one accord.
"Can this be true?" Vinata asked tremulously. "Is my son his elder brother,
Surya's, charioteer?"
"Yes, Vinatadevi," Narada reiterated emphatically. "Your malformed son is
fortunate indeed!"
"I did my son grave injustice by cutting short his development through my
reckless impatience. It was I who made Aruna deformed." Vinata wiped the
tears of joy which coursed down her cheeks. "But the Supreme God, in his
mercy, has redressed the wrong done to my son!"
Kasyapa congratulated his wife: "Vinata, you are indeed fortunate: one son
is Lord Vishnu's vehicle; the other is Surya's charioteer."
"Let us add another blessing to that — Aruna will be the one to grant his
darshan to the entire cosmos before they glimpse Surya himself. Aruna's
dawn will herald Surya's rising!" Narada smiled complacently at this
eminently satisfactory state of affairs.
Subsequent to Sage Narada's visit, Simhika, Danu, Simhidevi, Chitralekha
and Meghahasa held a private conclave in a secluded corner of the
hermitage. Danu, who had eavesdropped on Narada's conversation with
Vinata, acquainted the group with the information regarding Aruna.
"It is all Vishnu's doing!" raged Simhika. "He persists in fanning the flame
of enmity among our children!"
"Yes," Danu reinforced her accusation. "He has deliberately made Surya's
step-brother his charioteer. It is a ploy to foil Rahu and Ketu's scheme to
wreak vengeance on Surya!"
"Now, our husbands will be unable to make Surya and Chandra pay for
their treachery!" lamented Simhika.
"Why not?" The group looked up in surprise at these defiant words: Rahu
stood before them, with Ketu by his side as usual.
‘Aruna's presence, or absence, from Surya's side is immaterial to the
execution of our plan." Ketu proclaimed arrogantly. "Our hunger for
vengeance is immutable and we will not rest until it is appeased."
"Yes," added Meghahasa. ‘And the boons I have obtained for my father and
uncle from Lord Shiva are formidable weapons in our armoury!"
"Well said, Meghahasa!" Rahu swelled in approval of his son's words. "Our
power is unmatched! Surya thinks he has evaded capture by hiding behind
Anoora." He snorted in contempt and continued. "Never fear – I will soon
trap him and swallow him again."
"But, Anoora sits right in front of Surya," Simhidevi reminded them. "If he
meets with harm, our mother-in-law, Vinatadevi, will endure untold agony!"
"Devi," Rahu reassured her. ‘Anoora will not suffer in any way. The poor
boy has no legs – I would not dream of harming him." He continued
confidently. "I can reach Surya in spite of Anoora shielding him. I will pull
Surya into my mouth. Once he is inside, his heat will die." There was a
proud gleam in Rahu's eyes. "He is merely Bhanu: the radiance – I am
Swarbhanu: the splendor of radiance! Moreover, I am also armed with Lord
Shiva's priceless boons."
"Swami," Chitralekha addressed her husband curiously. ‘Are you both
planning to take turns in wreaking vengeance on Surya and Chandra?"
Ketu's terrifying gales of laughter assailed their ears. "Both of us harbor a
grudge in our souls … both of us burn with the desire for vengeance . and
both of us will swallow Surya and Chandra in alternate succession! We will
reduce them to a state of abject helplessness and alarm: they will live in
constant fear, trying in vain to guess when, and from whom, the next attack
comes!"
"I pay obeisance to the feet of my father and mother!" Sage Narada stood
before Brahma and Saraswati with respectfully folded hands.
Saraswati's eyes twinkled. "Narada, my son, and what juicy tidbit do you
bring to your father's ears?"
"Narayana! Narayana!" Narada exclaimed in apparent innocence. ‘And
what makes you suspect that I bring fresh tidings, mother?"
"My son, we all know that you would not honour anyone with your
presence unless you have some information to impart or gather!" Brahma
smiled in wry amusement. "Do you think Saraswati, the goddess of speech,
cannot deduce your motive? Come, now: tell us the purpose of your visit.
Why are you here – to collect information, or to disseminate it?"
"Father," Narada smiled back in surrender. "You know that I can do neither
without it being decreed by you! Grant me the pleasure of telling you what I
have seen and heard." He continued: ‘At Lord Vishnu's command, you
positioned Aruna before Surya and successfully regulated the heat waves
emanating from him – but you have overlooked the need to regulate Rahu!"
Brahma nodded thoughtfully at Brahma's words.
"Without Aruna as a protective shield, Surya's fiery demeanour kept Rahu
at bay. But now. the situation has changed," Narada emphasized.
Goddess Saraswati chuckled. "It looks like father and son wracked their
brains and came up with a solution to one problem – but failed to take into
consideration the other! You controlled the menace posed by Surya's
insufferable heat – and neglected to deal with the menace posed by Rahu!"
"Saraswati, that cannot be termed neglect," Brahma protested mildly. "It is
more of an oversight. Moreover, Vishnu and I cannot resolve this issue
unilaterally without Lord Shiva's contribution: remember, it was he who
granted Rahu and Ketu boons through Meghahasa."
"Swami," Saraswati smiled complacently. "Of course, I am aware of that."
She paused meaningfully. "It is obvious that the Trimurti must meet and
hammer out a consensual solution."
"Well said, mother!" Narada was enthusiastic at this proposal. "I come here
straight from Sage Kasyapa's hermitage – and Kasyapa and Aditi are of the
same opinion. They insist that something must to be done to restrain Rahu,
as he will not be deterred by Aruna's mere presence."
Brahma nodded in agreement. "Yes, Narada, your mother is right. It is high
time the Trimurti came together to deal with this predicament once and for
all!" He ordered his son: "Until a permanent solution is found, keep a
watchful eye on Rahu."
"It shall be done, father. It is essential that the Trimurti resolve this issue as
fast as possible!"
Narada saluted his parents and hurried away.
Rahu streaked eastwards across the sky, intent on his mission of vengeance.
He mulled over his plan of action. Today he would capture Surya and keep
him confined in his stomach from dawn to dusk. It should be simple enough
to approach Surya and swallow him quickly.
Aruna would not prove an obstacle to his goal. After all, Rahu had single-
handedly vanquished Surya himself – surely a deformed Aruna, lacking
lower limbs, could not mount any defence worth the name!
The exultant Rahu, confident in the success of his coming offensive,
weaved playfully among the clouds: he floated serenely above them, fitfully
concealed himself within their fluffy interiors and then banked to flash
underneath their cover. He frolicked in glee, scattering the clouds into
tatters of laughter. He emerged from a thick bank of cumulus and braked to
an abrupt halt. His eyes widened in surprise, mixed with growing suspicion.
The Trimurti blocked his path. There before him stood Lord Vishnu, who
had beheaded him, Lord Shiva, who has bestowed wondrous boons on him,
and Lord Brahma, his own grandfather.
"I salute Lord Shiva's holy feet!" Rahu bowed in reverence to his
benefactor.
Lord Shiva extended his hand in benediction over Rahu's bowed head and
gently reprimanded the asura : "Rahu, it is not right to show overt partiality.
Offer your salutations to Vishnu and Brahma too."
Rahu folded his hands perfunctorily in Lord Brahma's direction and turned
toward Lord Shiva. "Bhagavan,” he said indignantly, "you know that
Vishnu demonstrated his own partiality towards the devas by serving the
amrita exclusively to them. He then beheaded Ketu and me for having had
the presence of mind to sit with the gods!" Rahu pointed an accusing finger
at Lord Vishnu, his words simmering with anger.
"Rahu," Vishnu smiled serenely. "Even before I could serve the amrita , you
and Ketu, fearing that the asuras would not get their share, committed the
grave mistake of disguising yourself as devas . Every crime merits its
punishment."
"That does not excuse your own crime!" Rahu retorted.
Lord Vishnu asked in his turn: "When Dhanvantari emerged with the pot of
amrita , an asura snatched it from him and fled. Was that not a crime? Why
did you not condemn your fellow-demons' improper action?"
Rahu, at a loss for words, looked away peevishly.
Lord Shiva intervened emphatically: "Rahu, all this is water under the
bridge. Let us forget the past. Your festering resentment against Surya
goaded you into inflicting punishment on him by swallowing him. It is
acceptable to retaliate against one's enemy: however, your action impinges
on all the worlds." Lord Shiva locked eyes with the asura. "Rahu, the effect
of your vengeance is not confined to Surya alone. You must put a stop to
it!"
"Swami … ." Rahu faltered.
"In response to your son's penance, I lavished boons on you. These boons
will earn you fame and secure your advancement." He smiled wryly. "Surya
and Chandra merely pointed you out to Vishnu – it was Vishnu who
beheaded you. Why then does your vengeance not extend to Vishnu? Is that
not strange?"
"Rahu," Brahma spoke in conciliatory tones. "Your desire for revenge was
born from impetuous anger, not from calm contemplation. You may subject
your adversary to torment – but not at the cost of the well-being of the
entire cosmos. You know that Lord Shiva is right."
"Rahu," Sri Mahavishnu said. "You were born as Sage Kasyapa's son, as
ordained by me. Your birth has a purpose: and that is certainly not to inflict
vengeance on Surya and Chandra!" He continued persuasively. "Soon, you
will be anointed to take your place in a renowned company of the gods. At
that time, the boon bestowed on you by Lord Shiva will come into effect.
You will be worshipped by the three worlds. Prepare for that eminent role
and banish your vendetta from your mind."
"Rahu, this is the wish of the Trimurti ," Brahma emphasized.
Rahu looked silently at Lord Shiva, who added: "Rahu, it is in your interest
to accept our proposal." He smiled reassuringly at the asura. "You will be
endowed with a palatial abode in space and invested with special powers
and duties."
Rahu folded his hands in reverence and addressed the Holy Trinity as one.
"I swore an oath to my family to avenge myself on Surya and Chandra. I
will keep my promise to them – at the same time, I will bow to the
command of the Trimurti ."
The three gods frowned in bewilderment.
"Contrary to our earlier resolution to exact revenge on them daily, Ketu and
I will content ourselves with swallowing Surya and Chandra a few times
each year. Again, instead of keeping them confined to our abdomens for an
entire day, we will eclipse their power momentarily and then expel them."
He insisted to the listening gods. "You must accept this compromise and
bless us. Leave it to me to convince my brother, Ketu."
Lord Shiva mulled over the implications of this proposal. "In effect, your
vengeance will be confined to a well-delineated, limited time." He came to
a decision. "Rahu, we accept your proposition."
"So be it!" chorused Vishnu and Brahma in unison.
Rahu circumambulated the Trimurti with devoutly folded hands and came
to stand before them again.
"Return to the hermitage, Rahu!" Lord Vishnu said with a smile.
‘And that brings us to the end of Rahu's life story." Nirvikalpananda looked
questioningly at his attentive listeners. "Any doubts? If so, let me hear
them!"
"Master, did Rahu faithfully keep the promise he made to the Trimurti?"
Sadananda asked.
"Certainly, my boy," the master was emphatic. "We all see Rahu and Ketu
swallowing Surya and Chandra a few times a year for a limited period of
time.
"Rahu and Ketu decided to swallow Surya during the day of a new moon
and Chandra during the night of a full moon. We will elaborate on this
when we move on to Ketu's life story. As I told you earlier, Ketu grew up
with Rahu in Kasyapa's hermitage. He joined Rahu in disguising himself as
a deva in order to obtain the amrita and, along with Rahu, was decapitated.
Now, let us listen to the other significant events in Ketu's life …"
Vimalananda respectfully intervened. "Master, wouldn't it be better if we
first cleared our doubts regarding Ketu's origin?"
"That would certainly be best, Vimalananda," Nirvikalpananda agreed.
"What is on your mind?"
"Master, according to you, Ketu emerged from the heated breath of Mrthyu
and was brought up in Sage Kasyapa's hermitage …"
"Yes, my boy," Nirvikalpananda interrupted him. "I have also given you my
explanation for this. We have already arrived at a rational conclusion
regarding Ketu's birth and upbringing."
"Yes, master – but some scriptures assert that Rahu was the only one to
disguise himself as a god, and be beheaded, during the churning of the
Ocean of Milk. According to those texts, while Rahu's head survived as
Rahu, his body became Ketu"
"Ah," exclaimed Nirvikalpananda, "I see your confusion. I will address it in
detail.
"Have you taken into consideration the form in which Ketu is worshipped
in temples, along with the other grahas ? This must be done in order to give
due regard to the Navagrahas’ believers and devotees. Their sensibilities
must be respected before drawing any conclusion.
"Like the other eight grahas , Ketu is represented with a distinct body and
features. Though many consider Rahu and Ketu to be shadow planets, it is
generally accepted that they possess their own unique traits and
personalities.
"Ketu boasts of a singular from. His prescribed worship and special eulogy
are markedly distinct. His glow can be easily differentiated. He has specific
features. In this context, it is logical to accept that he had his own particular
identity right from the beginning."
The master continued in this vein. "Some scriptures specifically state that
Ketu was born as an individual in his own right. The Vishnudharmothara
Purana holds that Ketu was not a part of Rahu, but a separate entity. Again,
the Skaanda Purana asserts that Rahu and Ketu were seated side by side
during the distribution of the amrita by Lord Vishnu as Mohini. The
Ranganatha Ramayana also supports this stand and says that Rahu and
Ketu have their own separate physiques and unique characteristics. The last
text unambiguously claims that Vishnu beheaded both Rahu and Ketu.
"Based on the established practice of worshipping Rahu and Ketu as
different idol forms at temples, we can safely accept them as two distinct
grahas right from their births," Nirvikalpananda explained.
"Master," Shivananda bowed in respect. ‘As always, your analysis is well
reasoned and eminently satisfactory."
"So, let us resume Ketu's narrative using the same logical viewpoint.
Everyone in Kasyapa's hermitage approved of the truce forged by Rahu
with the Trimurti , except Ketu …"
Nirvikalpananda launched his narrative once more.
The Life of Ketu
T he garden behind the hermitage was deserted except for one very angry,
inconsolable individual–Ketu agitatedly paced up and down its narrow
paths. A terrifying crimson hue animated his burning face and sparks of
fury flashed from his red eyes.
Rahu's account of his pusillanimous treaty with the Trimurti echoed
mockingly in Ketu's ears. It was evident that Rahu had been deceived by the
sweet-talking Holy Trinity: why else would his brother have so easily
agreed to give up his vendetta against Surya and Chandra, who had
instigated Vishnu to behead him and Ketu? How could Rahu have ignored
the oath they had taken to wreak continuous vengeance on Surya and
Chandra?
Vishnu's charade during the distribution of the amrita was an insult, not
only to him and his brother, but to the entire rakshasa clan. The gods
undoubtedly deserved to be punished.
After Rahu's tame surrender, it would be best if they both parted ways. Ketu
himself would single-handedly inflict punishment on Surya and Chandra –
he would hold them captive by eclipsing their light. Surya would suffer
under his hold on every day of the month. In Chandra's case, it would
suffice to punish him on fifteen nights in a month - he would anyway wane
under the influence of his chronic tuberculosis on the other fifteen nights.
Proud of his own determination and courage, Ketu laughed aloud.
"Swami … " Ketu stopped short and turned in the direction of the faltering
voice. His wife, Chitralekha, and his mother, Danudevi, were coming
towards him.
"Son," Danu asked, "why are you here alone, laughing to yourself?"
"He is happy," Chitralekha remarked naively. But once they stood beside
him, they looked askance at his thunderous countenance.
"Mother," Ketu exclaimed. "how can I be happy? Are we to be conciliated
with a few paltry boons for all the hatred and insults of the past?! Mother,
your son's heart burns!"
"I understand, my son," Danu consoled Ketu. "Surya and Chandra were
responsible for your decapitation at Vishnu's ruthless hands. It is not right
that they be allowed to get away scot-free for their heinous crime–they must
be punished! You must regain your past glory!"
"Swami … " Chitralekha said hesitantly, "the treaty forged by your brother,
Rahu, seems to be just …"
"Chitralekha!" Chitralekha and Danu froze in alarm at Ketu's roar of
warning.
He continued angrily: "Rahu was bewitched! He has forgotten his vow to
exact vengeance!"
Danudevi locked eyes with her furious son and asked, "Very well,
Ketu,what do you plan to do, now?"
"I will burn Aditeya and Aatreya in the everlasting fire of my vengeance!"
Ketu gnashed his teeth. Chitralekha looked at her mother-in-law in alarm.
"How would you accomplish that, son?" Danudevi calmly asked.
"How?!" Ketu laughed in derision. "Surya will vanish during every day of
the month – Chandra will vanish during the first fifteen nights of the month.
They will disappear into the dark cavern of my stomach!"
"Very well, Ketu," Danu said. "But, have you stopped to think about the
consequences of your action on the three worlds?"
"Mother," Ketu said haughtily, "the worlds can be annihilated for all I care!!
Tell me, mother, did any one of those worlds shed tears when our heads
were sundered from our torsos?"
"If you swallow Surya, the worlds will languish in the absence of heat and
light. Famine will raise its ugly head."
"Mother," Ketu shrugged callously, "I am indifferent to the suffering of the
three worlds."
‘And when you swallow Chandra," Danu persisted, "there will be no
moonlight. The herbs which flourish in the cool light of the moon will
perish. Without medicines, all diseased beings will inevitably die."
Ketu burst into cruel laughter. "I would be very happy if such an outcome
came to pass! What a triumph that would be for my vengeance!"
Danudevi smiled enigmatically. "Son, the sunlight and the moonlight are
not essential to the three worlds alone: certain other people are also
dependent on them for survival."
"And who might they be, mother?" Ketu asked curiously.
"I, your father, your wife, my sisters, your rakshasa kin and, finally, you
yourself, all need the light of the sun and the moon as a precondition for
life! Have you forgotten this simple truth, Ketu?"
Danu's words cut him like a whiplash. Ketu stood with his mouth agape, his
eyes fixed on his mother.
"Swami," Chitralekha said gently. "What your mother says is true: all of us
at the hermitage grew weak when the sun failed to shine for just a single
day!"
"My son, here is another fact you should keep in mind," Danudevi's voice
was filled with compassion. "In order to take revenge on Surya, you must
remain in good health – and in order to remain healthy, you require both
sunlight and moonlight."
"Mother …" Ketu faltered.
"Son, inflicting suffering on another makes sense only when it gives you
joy. It would be self- defeating if your vengeance ruined your own welfare."
"How then can I taste vengeance, mother?" Ketu was disconsolate.
"Just emulate your elder brother, Rahu," Danu was serenely confident.
Ketu stared at his mother. 'Yes,' he thought, 'Mother is right! If one plans to
push someone into a ravine, one must first have his own feet firmly planted
on the overhanging cliff!'
Ketu nodded slowly in agreement. "Mother, you are right," he said. "I will
follow brother Rahu's lead. He is yet to swallow Chandra – perhaps he has
left him to me! I will swallow Chandra tonight!" Ketu exclaimed
enthusiastically.
"Ketu," Danudevi said in wry amusement, "enthusiasm alone is not enough
to ensure success. It should be complemented with intelligent thinking.
Right now, Chandra is a crescent – soon he will grow to his full rotundity.
On the night of the full moon, he will be at the peak of happiness and pride.
That is when you must strike – the enemy's suffering will be multiplied if it
shatters existing happiness." Her voice rose in command. "Son, attack
Chandra on the night of the full moon!"
"Mother, your wisdom is past compare! I bow to your advice." He paused
thoughtfully. "There are many days to go for the full moon. In that interim, I
will concentrate on Surya!" Ketu gave a malicious cackle of laughter. "I
will ensure that Surya is haunted by my constant presence!"
‘Are you planning to swallow Surya?" Danudevi asked.
"No, mother," Ketu smiled. "In future, Rahu and Ketu will faithfully take
turns to deal with Surya."
"Son, obtain Rahu's blessings before you leave," were Danudevi's
affectionate words of parting.
Surya reclined complacently on the seat of his chariot. He was supremely
secure in the confidence that he need no longer fear Rahu: the Trimurti’s
intervention had put paid to that threat. He was blessed with a charioteer
who could instinctively comprehend the intentions of both the chariot's
master and the steeds drawing it. This made Surya's diurnal journey across
the daytime sky a pleasure.
Suddenly, he sat up in alarm. A hoot of blood-curdling laughter came to
taunt him from the roaring clouds. Surya looked round him searchingly. The
hideous sound seemed to emerge from a thick bank of clouds in his path.
Who could this be? What was the reason for this jeering laughter? Was it
Rahu?
The gales of merriment scattered the clouds with their ferocity, revealing
Ketu's face: it hung in the air like a glistening, wicked clot of blood.
Aruna instinctively turned to his master. "Surya Bhagavan ," he asked,
"who is this demon?"
Surya's eyes were glued to the hideous face. "It is Ketu, Rahu's younger
brother," he replied.
Ketu's cavernous mouth yawned open and the asura gestured at Surya to
come forward. His red tongue was a bright flame inside the deep cavity.
Wickedly pointed incisors and canines formed barriers framing the entrance
to this abyss of doom. His taunts and terrifying laughter conveyed the
warning: 'I am waiting to swallow you – be prepared!"
However, Surya noticed that Ketu remained equidistant from the chariot,
even when he persisted in his chase. Rahu and Ketu had both nursed their
resentment into full-blown hatred towards him and Chandra. Why had the
Trimurti dealt with Rahu alone and ignored Ketu? Had they mistakenly
assumed that Ketu bore no grudge against Surya? Were Rahu and Ketu in
cahoots over some scheme to take turns in attacking him? Why did Ketu
keep at a distance? These and a thousand other niggling doubts buzzed
through Surya's anxious mind: his earlier complacence vanished into the
blue sky.
As Surya continued on his passage, Ketu's mocking laughter followed him
inexorably, echoing through the vast reaches of the atmosphere. It seemed
as though the chariot was surrounded by an invisible crowd of jeering
asuras .
At long last, it was the time of sunset. Surya heaved a sigh of relief. Aruna's
face glowed with a serene smile and calm repose spread across the sky.
Surya looked back: Ketu remained at his fixed distance behind the chariot,
leering at them.
Surya wondered: 'Was Ketu conveying a warning?' Surya reached out to the
Trimurti in silent prayer.
Chandra, liberated from the curse pronounced on him by his father-in- law,
Daksha prajapati, recovered from the dreadful tuberculosis which had
decimated him for fifteen days. Over the next fifteen days, he waxed into
his full glory and reached his zenith. On the night of the full moon,
Chandra's twenty-seven wives gazed in admiration at his unblemished,
complete radiance and bid him a fond farewell as he set out on his journey
across the night sky.
Chandra made his serene way through the cloudless night, bathing the
worlds in his silver light. Suddenly, a deafening thunder-clap shattered the
silence of night. Thunder – in a clear sky?!
Chandra looked round in bewilderment. He gave a gasp of surprise at the
strange apparition standing before him: a crimson face … cavernous mouth
… sharp, pointed teeth … wild, matted hair …
"Why do you stare at me like that, Chandra?" the stranger asked. "Don't you
recognize me? You were perfectly capable of identifying me earlier in a
deva’s disguise!" He broke into wicked laughter.
Chandra came to a halt and continued to stare at the demon in puzzlement.
"It seems you have conveniently forgotten the moment you had my head
severed from my body!"
Realization dawned belatedly on Chandra. "You … you are Ketu!" he
gasped.
"You may forget me," Ketu screeched, “but, rest assured, I will never forget
you! I will keep you constantly in my mind. I will ensure that I meet you
every night. I will swallow you unceasingly!"
Ketu dashed towards the unsuspecting Chandra with a speed which threw
the winds into a roaring turmoil. Ketu's cavernous mouth opened wider and
wider until it was a repulsive, gargantuan cavity of gore. Catching Chandra
unawares, Ketu quickly pulled him into his gaping maw. With deliberate,
unhurried movements, Ketu effortlessly swallowed the hapless Chandra,
delighting in every movement of his jaws.
Chandra disappeared into the fiery pit of Ketu's mouth as if into a dark
storm cloud. His brilliant radiance diminished gradually. Soon, the
moonlight vanished from the night sky and darkness shrouded the three
worlds.
Indra strolled with Sachidevi in the divine Nandana garden. The cool breeze
carried the fragrance of the heavenly paarijaatha flowers and the kalpaka
trees. The light of the full moon painted the garden in ethereal beauty.
Sachidevi was bathed in silver. In Indra's eyes, his wife surpassed the
apsaras in loveliness. The king of the devas drank in her beauty as she
lifted her face towards the moon like a night-blooming lily.
Suddenly, a shadow crossed her face and blurred its exquisite contours and
her body was engulfed in darkness. Indra frowned in bewilderment and
looked around him. Darkness had crept not only over his wife, but over the
entire garden! Indra looked up at the sky: Had a cloud blocked the moon?
No … the sky remained clear.
Indra's eyes widened in shock at the drama unfolding in the night sky.
Someone was swallowing Chandra! Who was it? Was it Rahu? Had the
asura broken his compact with the Trimurti? In a flash of sudden
realization, Indra guessed that it was none other than Ketu!
Rahu had retired behind the curtains and let Ketu take center-stage! After
all, Ketu was also an injured party during the distribution of the amrita .
"Swami," Indra snapped out of his introspection at Sachidevi's anxious call.
He peered into the darkness and saw his wife groping her way towards him
as a vague shadow. He reached out for her hand.
"Swami," her voice mirrored her bewilderment, "what is the cause of this
sudden darkness on a full moon night?"
‘A new threat has reared its ugly head." Indra said angrily. "It is black
magic: Ketu has swallowed Chandra. I must rush to meet the Holy Trinity!"
Indra walked rapidly towards his palace, shepherding his wife before him.
Having kept Chandra confined in his stomach all night long, and subjecting
him to agonizing punishment, Ketu spat him out at dawn. Like a grotesque
artist gloating over a canvas painted with a demonic brush, the asura gazed
in smug satisfaction at his bedraggled, feeble, dim captive. .
"Chandra, hear me: this is but the first of an unending series of punishment
for the wrong you did me and brother Rahu." Ketu crowed in malicious
triumph. "I will come for you at my whim and pleasure and wreak my
vengeance by swallowing you!"
As Chandra remained in forlorn silence, Ketu burst into gleeful laughter at
his miserable state. The asura’s face grew even more hideous with the flash
of his cruel teeth. Head bent under the heavy burden of abject defeat,
Chandra rose to make his departure. Ketu's malicious laughter pursued him
relentlessly.
Chandra could not recover from Ketu's merciless pummeling – even under
the tender ministrations of his twenty-seven wives! A bath in scented water
failed to relax his rigid muscles. He was petrified with fear: he was fated to
endure Daksha's curse of tuberculosis for the first half of the month –now,
to compound his misery, he had to suffer being eclipsed by the asuras in the
second half of the month! He was surrounded by hardships beyond his
wildest imagination!
"Swami," asked a concerned Aswini, "how will you escape from Rahu and
Ketu's clutches?"
"Their demonic strength is incredible … and it is augmented by Lord
Shiva's boons!" Chandra heaved a sigh of despair. ‘Aswini, my heart aches
at being subjected to such torment. All I did was to ensure that the asuras
did not lay their hands on the amrita ." He closed his eyes in pained
recollection: "Oh! The foul odour in that hideous stomach … the revolting
saliva … I shudder to think of the torture!"
"How are we to escape from this great danger, Swami ?" Rohini's eyes
melted in compassion.
"There is only one way: I will have to stay at home and abdicate all my
ordained tasks and duties," Chandra said resignedly.
"But, Swami," Bharani pointed out: "the worlds will suffer in the absence of
moonlight!"
"Sister, there are only two options for our husband: remaining in the
security of our abode or enduring untold suffering in that hideous rakshasas
stomach. There is no way he can risk travelling in the night sky," Krthika
argued.
Chandra nodded in sombre agreement with Krthika. "If I am destined to
deny the worlds my light by being cooped up somewhere, let it be here with
you! I refuse to walk into that demon's stomach – I will not go out!"
Chandra declared emphatically.
"Narayana! Narayana!" Sage Narada had arrived with his familiar
invocation to Lord Vishnu.
The anxious gathering rose to salute the sage. Chandra folded his hands
weakly in wordless greeting and sank back onto his couch.
"May happiness be yours," blessed Narada. The sage took an appreciative
sniff. "Aaaah … what a pleasant fragrance!'
"Our husband was trapped in that rakshasas abominable stomach for the
entire night. He returned home dripping with revolting fluids and reeking of
a foul odour," Aswini explained indignantly. "We have given him a bath in
water, scented with divine perfumes."
"Lucky you, Chandra!" Narada eyes twinkled. ‘All these beautiful ladies
bathing you in scented water!"
"Sage Narada!" Chandra, not in the least amused, protested weakly. "You
cannot imagine my terror and agony!"
"Narayana," said the irrepressible sage. "I heard you elaborate on them at
length from the door!" He continued, "So, you have decided not to go out
tonight to discharge your duties?"
"Maharshi," Chandra said gravely, "I am thinking of retiring permanently!"
"Narayana!" Narada exclaimed. "You will wane under the debilitating
influence of tuberculosis during the first half of the month. If you refuse to
cross the night sky for the other fifteen days, what will the repercussions
be? How will the herbs flourish without the light of your cool rays? Without
herbs, how will medicines be prepared? What will be the fate of the sick?"
"Do you advise service at the cost of personal suffering, Maharshi ?"
Chandra countered plaintively.
"Narayana!" retorted the sage. "It was precisely because they feared that
you would abdicate your duties with such thoughts that the Trimurti sent me
here!"
"The Trimurti ?!" Chandra sat up straight.
"Chandra," there was a faint note of rebuke in Narada's voice. "The Holy
Trinity is constantly on the alert to deal with problems which crop up in the
three worlds. I relay their command to you – resume your daily tasks
instead of hiding at home among your wives! They will keep Ketu in order,
just as they did with Rahu."
"Is that so, Maharshi ?" Chandra asked eagerly.
"Yes," Narada reassured him. "Set out fearlessly on your journey: the
Trimurti will keep Ketu at bay!"
"I am blessed indeed, Maharshi!" Chandra exclaimed happily.
Ketu frowned up at the night sky in puzzlement. "Brother Rahu, it looks
like Chandra is exulting in his daily travel …"
Meghahasa, who had accompanied his father and uncle on their nocturnal
raid, shared his bewilderment. "Uncle, it was just last night that you
tormented him in the depths of your stomach. How come he is now lording
it over the sky as if he does not have a care in the world? How can Chandra
be so courageous?"
‘All the better for us, Meghahasa," Rahu gave a sinister smile. "Surya and
Chandra are vulnerable to attack only when they roam about fearlessly in
the sky. Also remember, they are obliged to carry out their daily duties
without fail."
"Very well," Ketu rubbed his hands in glee. "Let me at them!"
Rahu and Meghahasa embraced Ketu and cheered him on.
Ketu zoomed into the sky and turned back to wave jauntily at the father and
son.
"May victory be yours, brother! May victory be yours!" Rahu shouted after
him.
Ketu streaked towards Chandra like a dark banner of smoke.
Ketu reached Chandra's ordained path and lay in ambush behind a thick,
white cloud. He peered out furtively at the approaching graha .
Chandra continued on his way across the sky, putting up a brave front to
conceal the stark fear in his heart. He held on desperately to his faith in the
Trimurti . Try as he might, he could not forget his terrible agony at Ketu's
hands the previous night.
"Proceed fearlessly on your journey. The Trinity will keep Ketu at bay …"
Narada's remembered words of courage were lost in the hideous echo of
Ketu's taunting laughter. Chandra looked about him in alarm – like fire
billowing from a curtain of smoke, Ketu's dark face grimaced at him from
behind a white cloud!
Ketu jumped out of hiding and dashed towards Chandra: only to come to a
screeching halt! There before him stood the Trimurti , forming a vast,
impenetrable barrier between the asura and Chandra. Their serene smiles
surpassed the light of the moon in radiance.
"Ketu," said Lord Brahma, without prelude. "It is time to reveal the secret
of your birth. You are a demigod with the traits of a rakshasa . Your mother
is the goddess Mrthyu. We are here to anoint you as a Navagraha, along
with Surya, Chandra and the others."
"Ketu," Lord Shiva's words carried implicit warning, "do not waste the
boons I granted you through Meghahasa by rashly swallowing Surya and
Chandra!"
Lord Vishnu spoke up in his turn: "Your decapitation at my hands was
ordained. Lord Shiva's boons have addressed your loss and restored your
head to your body. Being consumed by hatred will in no way contribute to
your future status. Set aside your obsession with swallowing Chandra and
Surya."
"Forgive my interruption," Ketu asked ominously, "what about my sworn
oath to exact vengeance on Chandra and Surya in perpetuity? What about
my promise to my mother and my wife?"
"We are willing to arrive at a compromise so that you can keep your
promise to your mother – just as we did in the case of your brother, Rahu."
Sri Mahavishnu said. "You may also satisfy your desire for revenge by
swallowing Surya and Chandra for a limited period of time a few times a
year – of course, without endangering the three worlds."
"Ketu, this compromise is our unanimous decision." Lord Shiva advised the
asura with a reassuring smile.
"Accept it and be happy," Lord Brahma added his persuasion.
Ketu bowed before the Three. "I accept your proposal with respect. My
brother and I will take turns to swallow Surya on a new moon day, and
Chandra on a full moon night."
"So be it!" the Trimurti chorused in benediction.
Ketu saluted them devotedly He then turned to Chandra with a triumphant
gleam in his eyes and departed with the satisfaction of having carved a
victory for himself.
The Holy Trinity vanished and Chandra was left to continue on his journey,
spreading his cool light over the dark skies with renewed vigor.
Ketu returned to an affectionate welcome from Rahu, Meghahasa, Simhika,
Danudevi, Simhidevi and Chitraleka, who stood waiting expectantly at the
entrance to Kasyapa's hermitage.
Rahu rushed to embrace Ketu. The two asuras clapped each other on the
shoulder and erupted into loud guffaws of triumphant laughter. The sound
of their merriment, as they celebrated their victory, resounded like the
thunder clap caused by the friction between two dark storm clouds. The
duos' exultant glee was contagious: soon, the entire company of seven was
roaring with uncontrollable mirth and Kasyapa's ashram shook with their
laughter.
Kasyapa prajapti, accompanied by Aditi, Vinata, Kadru, Diti and his other
wives, came running at the loud commotion. The merry-makers were so
absorbed in their mirth that they were oblivious to the arrival of the
newcomers.
"Danu … Simhika!" Aditi called out to her younger sisters.
Aditi's sharp reprimand brought Danu and Simhika to abrupt sobriety and
they turned to her in one accord. One by one, the others ceased their
laughter. Kasyapa prajapati frowned at the merry group in bewilderment.
Ketu had returned from his mission without swallowing Chandra, who
continued to glow complacently in the sky above: why then this raucous
celebration?
"Meghahasa," Kasyapa summoned his grandson.
"Grandfather," Meghahasa obediently came to stand before Kasyapa. His
cheeks were wet with tears of glee.
"Why are you all in fits of laughter, my boy?"
"Grandfather, like my father, uncle Ketu has also obtained boons from the
Trimurti ," Meghahaasa replied with a satisfied smile.
"Is that so?" Kasyapa turned to Ketu. "What boons have you received,
Ketu?"
Ketu, beaming with happy pride, obligingly recounted the course of events
which had culminated in his agreement with the Trimurti .
"This means that you two will swallow Surya and Chandra for a limited
period, a few times each year," Aditi said thoughtfully.
"This pact is an excellent compromise" exclaimed Kasyapa in relief. "You
are both my sons … and so is Surya! I have spent sleepless nights worrying
that I am poking my eyes with my own fingers!" Kasyapa smiled. ‘Again,
Chandra is also kin to us: he is the son of Sage Atri, who is a
maanasaputra, and one of my father's brothers."
"Father," Rahu said solemnly, "we took all aspects of the situation into
consideration before we accepted the Trimurti’s proposal."
"That gives me great satisfaction, my son! Like Surya and Chandra, you
two have attained eminent positions. You will be worshipped by the three
worlds. I wholeheartedly appreciate your achievements and bless you!"
Kasyapa prajapati’s eyes brimmed with affection.
"I deserve your appreciation too, Swami ," Simhika said with a smile. "After
all, it is my son who has proved his worth!"
"So has my son," Danudevi embraced Ketu.
Not to be left out, Meghahasa came forward to hold his grandfather's hands.
"Bless me too, grandfather," he said. "It was I who propitiated Lord Shiva
with my penance and obtained boons for your sons."
Kasyapa drew Meghahasa into his warm embrace. "My sons and grandsons
are earning fame and greatness! It is the will of the Supreme God and my
own good fortune!"
Rahu and Ketu burst into pleased laughter once more.
‘And that, in short, is the story of Ketu's life." Nirvikalpananda wound up
this segment of his narration.
"It is rather brief, master," Chidananda remarked with a smile.
"I have given you all the available information on Ketu, my boy."
Nirvikalpananda pointed out carefully: "Though his life history may not be
as long as that of the other grahas, he definitely holds his own with them in
the power he possesses."
"Master," asked Shivananada, "have we come to the end of the history of
the Navagrahas ?"
"Shivananda," Nirvikalpananda retorted with an indulgent smile, "do you
think so?"
The four young disciples looked at their master in expectant curiosity.
"We have seen the Navagrahas born, reach maturity and equip themselves
with the various strengths which qualify them for their status. But, there is
much more to it: their specific positions have to be determined; their duties
ordained –they must be anointed!" Nirvikalpananda explained. "The history
of the Navagrahas will not be complete without these details."
Vimalananda looked at his friends in excited anticipation. "So, our master
will now describe the anointing of the Navagrahas!"
"Bowing to the Trimurti’s command, Sage Narada invited all the gods to the
Anointing of the Navagrahas .
"Surya, Chandra, Kuja, Budha, Brhaspati, Sukra, Sani, Rahu, Ketu and their
wives were the special invitees. The Navagrahas ' parents were also there,
of course. Narada summoned the daityas and daanavas too. At Brahma's
suggestion, Narada invited Svaayambhuva Manu and his faithful wife
Satarupadevi …"
Nirvikalpananda continued his discourse.
The Anointment of the Navagrahas
C ool breezes from the sparkling waters of the Ocean of Milk wafted
pleasantly over the august assembly gathered on its shores. The company's
innate radiance lit up the ambience like the glow of a thousand lamps. A
tide of cheerful good-will washed over the gods and their consorts as they
waited to witness the anointment of the Navagrahas .
The mammoth court was filled to capacity. Sri Mahavishnu and Goddess
Lakshmi occupied places of honour on the court's elevated dais, with
Brahma and Saraswati on one side, and Shiva and Parvati on the other.
Indra and the other devas , along with their consorts, sat in a long row
below the dais. Facing across from them were the Brahma maanasaputras
and their wives, with the sages forming the third line of the triad.
The protagonists of the coming ceremony – Surya, Chandra, Kuja, Budha,
Brhaspati, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu, sat apart in a row of their own.
Their wives –Samjna, Aswini and her twenty-six sisters, Saktidevi, Ila,
Taara, Urjaswati, Jyeshtaadevi, Simhidevi and Chitralekha, were in the
gathering, beaming on their husbands in happy pride.
Near the Holy Trinity stood nine ornate gold thrones, waiting expectantly
for their special occupants.
Brahma closed his eyes in silent meditation. He then turned to Lord Vishnu.
"Father, the auspicious moment has dawned. Please begin."
Lord Vishnu embraced the great council with the warmth of his radiant
smile. His deep voice caressed the ears of the gathering, drowning out the
tides dashing on the shores of the Ocean of Milk.
"The incarnation of the Navagrahas in physical form is a significant step in
the rich progression of creation which flourishes in every kalpa. At the start
of creation, it occurred to me that it would be beneficial if the Navagrahas ,
who were in their astral forms, were to be born with gross physical bodies:
this would facilitate their tangible worship by humans who seek their mercy
and favour."
Sri Mahavishnu paused and gestured regally with his right hand. "In
accordance with the dictates of my will, I present to you the new physical
manifestation of the Nine Navagrahas!" The entire assembly of gods,
maanasaputras and sages turned in one accord to gaze in silent admiration
at Surya and his company of grahas who, in turn, folded their hands in
respectful salutation to the gathering.
Again, Lord Vishnu's rich voice resonated above the crashing of the ocean
waves. "The Navagrahas’ order of significance has been determined by
taking into consideration Brahma and Shiva's suggestions. Individual
powers and duties have been assigned to them, corresponding to their
respective strengths and abilities." He continued. "I will now invite them to
the dais, one by one, in that ordained order. Each graha will come up and
occupy his golden throne according to his sequence of merit."
An excited murmur ran through the mammoth court. Vishnu smiled
benignly at the sea of upturned faces and launched into his dignified
summons.
"The first among the Navagrahas is Surya!"
The enthusiastic applause of the audience sounded a triumphant background
score, as Surya rose, folded his hands in salutation to the assembly, and
walked in sedate dignity towards the gleaming row of golden thrones. He
seated himself majestically on the first throne.
"The second of the grahas is Chandra!" Vishnu's voice echoed along the
shore of the Ocean of Milk.
"The third is Kuja!" "The fourth –Budha!" "The fifth –Brhaspati!" "The
sixth –Sukra!" "The seventh –Sanaischara!" "The eighth –Rahu!" "And the
ninth –Ketu!"
The eight grahas answered Vishnu's summons in turn and took their
assigned places on the dais. All eyes were glued to the Navagrahas , now
seated in splendid array on their golden thrones, adorned with the nine
precious gems.
"In recognition of his position as the preceptor of the gods, and his towering
intellect, Brhaspati shall be popularly known as the 'Guru,'" Sri Mahavishnu
announced to warm applause.
"Nine grains and nine gems stand out in importance in nature's design. Each
graha will be awarded sovereignty over a particular grain and a specific
gem."
Sri Mahavishnu turned to Brahma and Shiva. "I call upon Brahma to
announce the jurisdiction of the respective Navagrahas over each grain and
Shiva to proclaim their dominion over each of the Nine Gems."
Brahma bowed to Vishnu and proclaimed: "Surya will assume sovereignty
over wheat, Chandra over paddy and Kuja over red gram. Green gram will
come under Budha, other grams under Guru, and awnless barley under
Sukra. Sani will exercise his dominion over sesame, Rahu over black gram
and Ketu over horse gram." He paused. "Each of these will be the preferred
grain of the respective grahas –who in turn will command their favourite
grain. This is will of the Holy Trinity!"
"I will now list the particular gems over which each graha will exercise
authority…" Shiva spoke up in his turn, extending his hand in benediction
over the Navagrahas. "Surya –Ruby, Chandra –Pearl, Kuja –Coral, Budha –
Emerald, Guru –Yellow sapphire, Sukra –Diamond, Sani –Blue sapphire,
Rahu –Hessonite and Ketu –Cymophane."
Shiva gestured with his hand. A gasp of wonder ran through the spectators
at the miracle which unfolded before their astonished eyes: precious gems
rained down on the Navagrahas ! A shower of rubies fell on Surya, while
Chandra was covered with pearls. Kuja, Budha, Guru and Sukra were
bathed in streams of corals, emeralds, yellow sapphires and diamonds,
respectively. Blue sapphires cascaded down on Sani, hessonite on Rahu and
cymophane on Ketu.
Thunderous claps and cheers roared through the court. The Navagrahas
sparkled in multi hued splendor under their sparkling coats of precious
gems. Vishnu and Brahma smiled appreciatively at Shiva's dazzling display
of the navaratnas .
Shiva turned to Vishnu. "Srihari, every group must have a leader: do decide
who is to govern the Navagrahas ."
Lord Vishnu nodded in agreement. "Shiva is right: the Navagrahas must be
ruled by a king. At this auspicious moment, I would like to decide who
among them is worthy of being elevated to this position of command …"
Vishnu let his eyes measure each of the grahas in turn. An expectant hush
fell over the gathering. The Navagrahas waited in silence. Rahu and Ketu
bent forward attentively.
Sri Mahavishnu's words split the silence like a thunder-clap. "I hereby
appoint Surya as the king of the grahas: he will enjoy the title, Graharaju
!"
Surya rose to the sound of deafening applause and bowed respectfully
towards the Trimurti. With two notable exceptions, the other grahas joined
in the general acclamation of Surya as their king. Rahu and Ketu remained
unmoved by the ovation.
Chandra shouted, "Victory to Surya, the King of the Grahas!"
"Victory to Surya, the King of the Grahas!" The entire assembly joyously
echoed Chandra's acclamation. Rahu and Ketu shut their ears to block out
the hails of triumph which rent the air.
Suddenly, unable to tolerate it any further, Rahu jumped to his feet and
shouted: "Stop it!" His face was dark with fury. "Enough of your senseless
cheers!" Rahu strode angrily towards the Holy Trinity, with Ketu fuming at
his heels.
"Rahu!" Lord Shiva called him to order. "What is the meaning of this
behavior?"
"Yes, Bhagavan,” Rahu cried out in a rage. "My rude behavior has
significance: it highlights Vishnu's partiality."
"Rahu …" Vishnu's eyes widened in surprise.
"Don't play the innocent with me, Vishnu," Rahu spat at him. "You have
favoured Surya and made him the king of the grahas only because he was
born from your attribute!"
"Rahu, this is a preposterous accusation!" Brahma intervened quickly. "The
king of the grahas was chosen on the strength of his merit, strength and
capabilities –not out of any kind of favoritism."
Ketu's loud laughter dripped with sarcasm as he said: "Of course you would
jump to Vishnu's defence –after all, he is your father!"
"If we were also Aditi's sons, we would not have been subjected to this
discrimination and humiliation," Rahu complained.
There was pandemonium in the assembly as the asuras ' accusations
became the subject of animated discussion.
Lord Vishnu rose and held out his hand for silence. "Rahu," he said gravely,
"Your allegation of bias has no foundation. My decision to appoint Surya as
the king of the grahas was based on his proficiency and the all-
encompassing affection he lavishes on the three worlds." He continued
emphatically: "Surya is the central force of the Navagrahas. He is the
power which provides the energy essential for the growth of food and life in
all the worlds …"
"We, Rahu and Ketu, are powerful in our own right, Vishnu," Ketu
interrupted angrily. "Lord Shiva has blessed us with power and status equal
to that of Surya and Chandra."
"Careful, Ketu!" Shiva stood up. "Do not demean your power and position.
In the eyes of the Trimurti, and indeed that of the entire universe, all the
grahas enjoy equal stature."
"Bhagavan,” Ketu shouted, "that is what you say … but, contrary to your
stand, Vishnu insists on demonstrating his partiality towards Surya!"
"I for one refuse to bow abjectly to Vishnu's decree," Rahu proclaimed
defiantly. "I will not accept Surya as our king. If, in your opinion, he is best
suited to be the king, prove that he is more powerful than us … or else,
prove that we are powerless!"
"I agree with my brother, Rahu," Ketu declared haughtily. "Give us
conclusive proof of Surya's superiority!"
"Yes," challenged Rahu. "Give us proof of Surya's strength … the Surya
who is so afraid of us that he cowers behind the handicapped Aruna,
shamelessly using him as a shield!"
"Surya gives energy for food … Surya gives energy for life … Ha, ha ha …
" Ketu laughed in derision. "We too have those powers. We proved our
might by swallowing him!" Rahu joined his brother's sarcastic mirth.
Sage Kasyapa, distressed by Rahu and Ketu's blatant display of arrogance,
rose to intervene. However, Aditi dissuaded him with a meaningful pressure
on his hand.
"Very well, Rahu," Sri Mahavishnu said serenely, "we agree to your
proposal."
"It is not a proposal, Vishnu," Rahu said contemptuously. "It is a
challenge!"
"Have it as you will," Vishnu remained unruffled. "Now, I will give you an
opportunity to demonstrate your power and skills."
Vishnu turned to Brahma. "Brahma, create a sapling for Rahu and Ketu."
Closing his eyes in obedience to Sri Mahavishu's command, Brahma
extended his hand and exercised the power of his will. Instantaneously, a
small sapling appeared in a golden pot. Its tender, green leaves quivered in
the breeze from the Ocean of Milk.
"Rahu and Ketu," Vishnu said gravely, "you see the sapling before you. You
have claimed to have the power to generate the energy essential for life and
sustenance. Here is your chance to prove your worth: emit rays of energy
and make the sapling grow. This is the test you must pass."
Ketu laughed loudly and gave a snort of contempt. "Such a trifling task
does not require our combined effort. My elder brother, the formidable
Rahu, is perfectly capable of accepting and winning your challenge
singlehandedly!"
Rahu patted Ketu's shoulder in affectionate approval and laughed
uproariously.
"Brother," urged Ketu, "prove your mighty strength –let waves of energy
gush forth from you!"
The entire assembly leaned forward in one accord, holding their breaths in
anticipation. Rahu approached the sapling. With a look of disdain at Vishnu,
he gave the sapling a penetrating glance. Rays of energy burst from the
asura 's eyes and bathed the tender leaves in harsh ultraviolet light. Right
under the gaze of the fascinated onlookers, the sapling wilted –the green
quickly leached away from its leaves, leaving the withered plant bent feebly
over the rim of its golden pot.
Ketu gave a hiss of regret and placed his hand in sympathy on Rahu's
shoulder. Rahu turned from his brother to look at the sapling which was
slowly dying. His eyes mirrored the defeat in Ketu's eyes.
As Rahu's defeat sank in, the assembly was in an uproar.
"Ketu," Vishnu called out gravely to the asura. "Now, you may attempt the
test."
Rahu staggered towards his throne, head bent under the heavy burden of
defeat. Ketu, sticking to his brother like a dark shadow, continued to follow
him, turning a deaf ear to Lord Vishnu's challenge. The assembly buzzed
with the excitement of the asuras ' ignominious defeat.
Vishnu turned to Surya and commanded, "Surya, nurture that sapling with
your life-giving energy. Let your rays shine forth!"
Surya rose to his feet obediently. He respectfully saluted the Trinity and
turned to the plant. Gentle beams of light fell on the sapling … minutes
passed … a current of energy pulsated through the feeble, withered plant. A
flush of pale green spread over the tiny, faded leaves. The sapling
straightened, and stood tall and fresh, glowing with the absorbed vigor of
sunlight. Surya ceased his outpouring of energy.
"Victory to Surya, the King of the Grahas ! Victory to the Graharaju !" the
gathering erupted into rapturous cheers of acclaim.The Trimurti smiled
benignly at the thousand voices raised in emphatic ratification of their
decision.
Rahu and Ketu bowed their heads in shame. As the cheers subsided, sage
Kasyapa went up to the two brothers and gazed compassionately at their
downcast faces.
A gentle smile played across Kasyapa prajapati’s face. His voice was kind.
"Rahu … Ketu, lift your chins and stand tall. Salute the Trinity and
apologize for your arrogance. Gracefully accept your brother and fellow–
graha, Surya, as your rightful king and accord him due respect. By this, you
will keep intact your honour as one of the demigods."
Rahu and Ketu paid heed to their father's wise counsel. They respectfully
saluted the Trinity. Next, they approached Surya and expressed their regrets
with folded hands. Surya favoured them with a radiant smile. The chastened
brothers quietly returned to their assigned thrones.
"The objective of this contest was not to glorify Surya, or to demean his
brothers, Rahu and Ketu." Lord Vishnu was explicit. ‘All the Navagrahas
are imbued with equal importance, with each of them possessing his own
unique power and strength. The Nine Grahas will have tremendous
significance on the life of all beings in the universe."
"Brahma and I are in accord with Vishnu," Shiva added with a smile.
"Rahu and Ketu, blinded by jealousy and anger, could not understand the
basis of our decision." Sri Mahavishnu elaborated. "Surya's light and heat
are essential for life and he is the source of all nourishment. Trees, creeper
and crops absorb his light to retain their life-sustaining green foliage.
Sunlight is the fount of health and sustenance. This is the reason we have
appointed Surya as the king of the grahas." Vishnu decreed: "Henceforth,
humans will adopt the ritual of offering the food grains cultivated by them
to Surya first and foremost."
"Surya, who bestows his rays of light on all the creatures of the three
worlds without any discrimination, is best fitted to be the king of the
grahas," Shiva emphasized benignly.
"He is the unanimous choice of the Trimurti,” Brahma added his voice to
that of the other two.
Chandra, Kuja, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu joined to applaud
the Trimurti.
"Father," Brahma reminded Vishnu, "the time of consecration is fast
approaching."
"Indra!" Vishnu summoned the king of the devas. Indra responded promptly
and came to stand before Lord Vishnu with hands folded in reverence.
"Indra," continued Vishnu, "the consecration ceremony will begin with the
anointment of the Navagrahas with milk from the Ocean of Milk. Brahma
will conduct this auspicious rite."
"Bhagavan," Indra bowed solemnly. "In line with your command, the
nymphs are ready with golden pots brimming with milk."
At Indra's signal, gandharvas and vidyaadharas broke into glorious strains
of auspicious music. The tides of the ocean danced in rhythm to the divine
melody.
Under the aegis of Brahma, the consecration of the Navagrahas
commenced. The Seven Sages chanted the Vedic mantras, as decreed by the
Creator. The Maharshis anointed the Navagrahas with the milk brought by
the heavenly apsaras .
As commanded by Indra, the nymphs anointed the Navagrahas’ foreheads
with the auspicious tilak, composed of red chalk collected from the shores
of the Ocean of Milk. The Navagrahas’ wives looked on in fascination at
the unfolding grandeur of their spouse's consecration. The lovely apsaras
danced in procession to the dais, holding fragrant garlands of flowers from
the kalpavrksha. At Brahma's nod, the nymphs gracefully arranged the
garlands about the Navagrahas’ necks.
The Trimurti, along with their consorts, stepped forward to shower their
blessings on the Navagrahas with the ritual akshata. The grahas accepted
the rain of auspicious grain and flowers with reverentially folded hands and
bowed heads.
"Srihari," Shiva said magnanimously, "I will anoint Surya as the king of the
grahas with amrita ."
"Surya is fortunate indeed," replied Vishnu with a smile.
Soon, everything was in readiness for Surya's elevation as the king of the
grahas. Surya sat on an ornate gold throne, under the canopy of a pristine
white umbrella. He was flanked on either side by the other eight grahas ,
seated on a level lower to his own throne.
The Trimurti and their consorts took their places on the dais beside Surya.
Indra, with his wife at his side, climbed the steps to the platform, bearing
the pot of amrita in his hands.
Lord Shiva solemnly anointed Surya with the divine nectar, accompanied
by the chant of Vedic mantras in the background. He adorned Surya's neck
with the garland of lotus blossoms which Sachidevi handed him. Vishnu
and Mahalakshmi, Brahma and Saraswati, Shiva and Parvati and Indra and
Sachidevi came forward in turn to shower him with akshata as a symbol of
blessing.
The assembly erupted into cheers, acknowledging the newly anointed king
of the grahas . The waves of the Ocean of Milk seemed to echo their
jubilation as they dashed joyously on the shores.
The seated gods came to their feet to form two rows facing each other. The
parallel lines of devas and their consorts were like strings of multi-hued
blossoms. In their hands were fragrant flowers. Suddenly, everyone pricked
up their ears: the sound of horses' hooves sounded in the distance, gradually
becoming louder. All eyes turned towards the golden chariot which
materialized in the distance and made its way majestically towards them.
Seven handsome stallions drew the vehicle. Miraculously, the chariot glided
by smoothly on a single wheel. Surya was ensconced in stately dignity on a
lotus-shaped seat in the center of the chariot, Aruna glowing before him as
his charioteer.
Surya's glittering chariot approached the lines of waiting gods. The red
umbrella above the chariot added its sparkle to the lustre of the equipage. A
crimson flag fluttered bravely in the wind. The Trimurti and their consorts,
who stood in the vanguard of the two rows, raised their hands in
benediction towards Surya, who was radiant in red garments and wore a
garland of red lotuses. The brilliance emanating from his body enhanced the
gleam of the chariot.
The Seven Sages stepped forward to chant Vedic mantras and shower
flowers on Surya.
“Japaakusuma samkaasam Kaasyapeyam Mahaadyutim!
Tamorim Sarvapaapaghnam pranatosmi Divaakaram!”
I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa
flower, who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the
enemy of darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.
A host of voices sang of Surya's glory, while all eyes drank in the delight of
his radiant person and equipage. Surya's chariot passed regally between the
two lines of gods and came to a standstill at a designated spot beyond.
Silence once again filled the arena.
All heads turned towards the clip-clop of horses' hooves, which grew
increasingly louder.
A three-wheeled, golden chariot appeared in the distance, drawn by ten
white horses, their manes streaming in the wind like a froth of milk. A
white umbrella crowned its top and a pristine white flag waved in the wind
blowing from the Ocean of Milk.
Chandra, clothed in gleaming white and wearing a garland of white
blossoms, sat in the chariot. The spectators were captivated by the charming
picture he presented.
The Seven Sages took up their verse in praise of Chandra, who was as white
as curd … as the conch-shell… as snow!
“Dadhi sankha tushaaraabham ksheerodaarnava sambhavam!
Namaami sasinam Somam Sambhormakuta bhooshanam!"
I offer my salutations to Sasi who is known as Soma (Chandra) who
shines like curds, the conch and snow, who rose from the Ocean of
Milk, who is the ornament on Sambhu’s (Lord Shiva) crown.
The assembly of gods echoed Chandra's glory and showered multi-coloured
flowers on him, as he made his stately passage of honour between them.
Chandra's golden chariot halted beside Surya's.
To the onlookers' delight, the next golden chariot quickly hovered into view.
Eight horses, sparkling red like rubies, pulled the two-wheeled vehicle. The
umbrella at its peak was a gleaming red and a red ensign fluttered in the
breeze. Kuja, the son of the earth goddess –he who had received the eternal
name, Angaaraka, sat in this chariot. Attired in blood-red garments, Kuja's
fiery complexion was complemented by a garland of scarlet flowers. A
shower of blossoms fell on Angaaraka Kuja, who appeared to the
spectators' eyes as a precious ruby embedded in gleaming gold. A pleasing
radiance emanated from him, bathing the surroundings in a warm glow of
light.
‘Dharanee garbha sambhootam vidyut kaanti samaprabham!
Kumaaram sakti hastham tam Mangalam pranamaamyaham!”
I offer my salutations to Mangala (Kuja) who is born from the womb of
the Earth, who is resplendent like lightning, who is (called) Kumara,
and who holds the weapon, Sakti, in his hand.
The gods and their consorts devotedly repeated the sloka recited in Kuja's
homage by the Seven Sages. Angaaaraka made his solemn way past the
admiring gods, to stop beside Surya and Chandra.
Next, a gleaming, orange-brown, two-wheeled equipage emerged from the
distance, sporting an ornate, yellow umbrella. Eight tawny horses galloped
in perfect unison under its shaft. Its turmeric-coloured standard waved
proudly in the wind.
Budha held his position in this chariot, a benign smile on his face. His
captivating good looks, which surpassed even Chandra in handsomeness,
drew an admiring gasp from the spectators. He wore garments of sparkling
yellow.
"Priyangu kalikaasyaamam roopenaa apratimam Budham!
Sowmyam Sowmyagunopetam tam Budhaam pranamaamyaham!”
I offer my salutations to Budha who is of dark blue complexion like the
Priyangu bud, who is wise, who is of incomparable beauty, who is
(called) Soumya and who is of benevolent quality.
The glorious invocation to Budha was recited by the Seven Sages, to be
echoed in chorus by the assembled gods. A rain of flowers accompanied
Budha on his passage, as he sedately moved on to join the grahas who had
preceded him.
In quick succession, Guru's chariot of mellow gold claimed everyone's
attention. A panoply of golden hues greeted their wondering eyes: Guru sat
in his seat, attired in gold a golden halo of wisdom emanated from him.
His aureate flag glimmered above the brilliant umbrella which sheltered
him. The two-wheeled vehicle was drawn by eight, perfectly matched
stallions of unblemished white. The chariot passed between the two rows of
waiting gods.
The Seven Sages sprinkled the auspicious akshata and flowers on him as
they intoned:
‘Devaanaamcha rushinaamcha Gurum kaanchana sannibham!
Buddhimantam trilokesam tam namaami Brhaspatim!”
I offer my salutations to Brhaspati, who is the preceptor of the gods
and sages, who is resplendent like gold, who is the personification of
wisdom and who is the lord of the three worlds.
The devas responded with special enthusiasm to their preceptor's
ceremonial passage. The shower of flowers increased to become a veritable
downpour of affection. As they stood looking fondly after his equipage, the
sound of unknown wheels compelled their attention.
Ten white horses cantered ahead of a glorious chariot, shining like molten
gold. Sukra, all in white, sat majestically on his seat of flaming aureate. A
garland of white flowers glowed round his neck. His ensign and umbrella
were dazzling white, rivalling the waves of the Ocean of Milk in their
pristine purity.
The Seven Sages received Sukra's equipage with their paean of glory to
him:
‘Himakunda mrnaalaabham daityaanaam paramam gurum!
Sarvasaastra pravakaaram Bhaargavam pranamaamyaham!’
I offer my salutations to Bhargava (Sukra) who shines like snow, like
the Kunda flower and lotus fiber, who is the great preceptor of the
demons and who is the expert orator of all the scriptures.
The gods rained their flowers on the chariot and responded to the sloka with
one accord. Suddenly, their response was drowned by the thunderous roar
of a mighty horde of rakshasas. To the gods' astonishment, thousands of
asuras , invisible up to then, stood revealed in lines contiguous with those
of the devas .
The very shores of the Ocean of Milk trembled with the rakshasas '
resonating cheers for their preceptor, Sukra. Sukra smiled fondly on his
disciples, who showered him with blood-red blossoms. Sukra moved past
the lines to join the other grahas arrayed before him.
Next came a coldly gleaming iron chariot, drawn by ten horses whose
mottled bodies were smeared with a jarring mixture of dark hues. The jet-
black canopy and ensign struck terror in the hearts of the spectators, who
peered fascinatedly at its hideous rider.
Sanaischara, with his pitch-dark complexion, dressed all in black, sat
regally in this chariot, garlanded with black flowers. The dappled steeds
menacingly galloped towards the waiting crowd, making their blood run
cold.
‘Neelaanjana samaabhaasam Ravi putram Yamaagrajam!
Chaayaa Maartaanda sambhootham tam namaami Sanaischaram!”
I offer my salutations to Sanaischara who shines like dark blue
collyrium, who is the son of Ravi (Surya),who has Yama as his elder
brother and who is born of Chaaya and Maartaanda (Surya).
The Seven Sages performed their ritual sprinkling of the akshata and
flowers on Sani, while reciting the sloka acknowledging his glory. The
devas and rakshasas hurriedly followed suit with rather excessive fervor!
Sanaischara made his ceremonial passage through the lines of gods and
demons and came to a halt beside Sukra at the other end.
It was now Rahu's turn to make his furious appearance. He arrived in a two-
wheeled chariot, ash-cold in colour. Its eight horses surged forward like
gargantuan black bees, whirling through the air. Rahu's black canopy and
standard streamed in the wind, a fitting foil to his dark blue attire and the
blackish-blue flowers garlanding his neck.
At Rahu's approach, the Seven Sages dutifully sprinkled their akshata and
flowers and launched into their invocatory chant in his praise.
"Ardhakaayam mahaaveeram Chandraaditya vimardanam!
Simhikaa garbha sambhootam tam Raahum pranamaamyaham!”
I offer my salutations to Rahu who is half-bodied, who is distinguished
and valiant, who is the oppressor of Chandra and Aditya and who is
born from Simhika’s womb.
The suras and asuras followed the sages in their acclamation of Rahu's
glory. Rahu stormed ahead in his chariot, majestically acknowledging the
shower of flowers in his honour. He drew to a halt beside Sanaischara.
At once, the crash of Ketu's chariot wheels rose above the resounding
voices of the rakshasas hailing his elder brother, Rahu. Eight red horses
charged forward furiously, pulling a chariot which flashed by like a
vaporous trail of smoke, streaked with wisps of black and fiery red.
A garland of strangely coloured flowers gleamed round Ketu's neck, above
his motley attire. His pennant and umbrella mirrored the incongruous hues
of his attire. Ketu's body, in quirky and disparate garments, was a grotesque
picture painted in bright palaasa colour.
"Palaasa pushpa sankaasam taarakaagrahamastakam!
Roudram roudraatmakam ghoram tam Ketum pranamaamyaham!"
I offer my salutations to Ketu who shines like the palaasa flower, who
is foremost among the stars and planets, who is Roudra, whose form is
fierce and horrible.
The Seven Sages broke into their invocatory chant in praise of Ketu and
showered him with akshata and flowers. The gods and demons followed
their lead and chorused Ketu's glory. Ketu gravely drove past his rakshasa
brothers, who greeted him with raucous cheers, while raining flowers on
him.
Rahu beamed proudly at his younger brother, Ketu, who stopped his chariot
beside his own.
Now, it was the turn of the Navagrahas ' wives to walk down the
ceremonial passage formed by the gods and demons. The apsaras danced
before them, sprinkling flowers on the ground as a soft carpet for their feet.
The Navagrahas, seated in regal splendor on their chariots, smiled fondly at
their approaching spouses.
Surya's wife –Samjna, Chandra's wives –Aswini, Bharani, Krthika, Rohini,
Mrgasira, Aardhra, Punarvasu, Pushyami, Aaslesha, Makha, Purva
Phalguni, Uttara Phalguni, Hasta, Chitta, Swaati, Visakha, Anuradha,
Jyeshta, Moola, Poorvaashaada, Uttaraashaada, Sravanam, Dhanishta,
Satabhisham, Poorvaabhaadra, Uttaraabhaadra and Revati, Angaaraka's
wife –Sakti, Budha's wife –Ila, Guru's wife –Taara, Sukra's wife –
Oorjaswati, Sani's wife –Jyeshtaadevi, Rahu's wife –Simhidevi, and Ketu's
wife –Chitralekha, walked in joyous procession towards their husbands,
newly anointed as the Navagrahas.
The radiant women, beaming with pride, joined their husbands on their
respective chariots. The onlookers broke into spontaneous applause at the
glorious sight of the Navagrahas bestowing their darshan in unison with
their spouses. The Trimurti commended Viswakarma who had crafted the
Navagrahas’ divine chariots, each one faithfully mirroring the traits of their
respective owners.
Vishnu addressed the Navagrahas : "Go now and take up residence in the
abodes built for you by Viswakarma at your ordained positions in space.
Exercise your authority over the lives of all beings, in line with the
execution of your duties and obligations." Vishnu paused for emphasis. "Be
especially magnanimous to humans, by accepting their worship and
blessing them."
"Your wish is our command, Bhagavan!’ the Navagrahas chorused in
unison.
"Surya and Chandra are already established in their beautiful palaces, where
they live with their families," Vishnu continued. "Kuja, Budha, Guru,
Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu –you will now take up abode in your own
palaces, located at the coordinates in space which your astral bodies
occupy." Vishnu smiled and gestured to the Creator. "Brahma will now
detail the positions of your respective abodes."
Brahma bowed to Vishnu and turned to the Navagrahas. "Surya, the king of
the grahas , occupies pride of place with his abode at the very centre of the
universe. This is called Surya's sphere. Chandra's sphere lies to the south-
east of Surya's orb. Angaaraka's sphere is in the south. Budha stands in the
north-east. Guru's sphere lies to Surya's north, while Sukra's orb is located
at Surya's east. Sani's sphere stands to Surya's west. Rahu has his sphere in
the south-west and Ketu lies in the north-west." Brahma looked at them
gravely. "These are the permanent positions laid down for the nine grahas."
Brahma looked meaningfully at Shiva.
Shiva, in his turn, addressed the Navagrahas : "All of you possess the
power to carry out your ordained tasks. You have been invested with
sovereignty over the kingdoms of Bharatakhanda and Bharatavarsha. You
are perfectly aware of all the relevant details of your position in your subtle
astral forms." Shiva continued seriously. "However, in your present gross
manifestations, your natures demonstrate certain inherent flaws. This is
because your physical senses exert an inevitable influence on your thoughts
and actions –pride is an overweening defect in you. Such shortcomings will
cloud your wisdom and dilute your divine attributes. In this context, it is
essential to explicitly delineate your duties, powers, positions …"
"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Shiva," Rahu interrupted haughtily. "We are
divine forms, consecrated as the Navagrahas. We remain gods, even in our
gross bodies. Yet, you accuse us of being flawed!"
"Pride?! … Flaws?! … In us?!" Ketu lifted his eyebrows in an exaggerated
parody of surprise and gave a bark of laughter.
Surya, Chandra, Kuja, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani and Rahu –in enthusiastic
approval of Ketu's words –joined his merriment.
"So, you are perfect, is it?" Lord Shiva smiled. "Well, let's see … Surya was
unable to see through Chaaya when she impersonated his wife, Samjna. Is
that not a flaw in Surya, the omniscient witness to all the actions of living
beings?"
The chastised Surya bent his head in shame.
"Coming to Chandra," Lord Shiva continued, "he was born to Atri and
Anasuya, the ideal parents. However, he eloped with his master's wife.
Again, he favoured Rohini and discriminated against his other twenty-six
wives, subjecting them to painful humiliation. Finally, he became the victim
of his father-in-law's curse which sees him afflicted by chronic tuberculosis.
Are these not defects in his character?"
Chandra hid his mortified face from the others.
"As for Kuja …" Shiva said, "Kuja was born from a drop of my perspiration
and grew up under Bhudevi's care. He presumed that he had been
abandoned by me, his father, and ignored me deliberately. He propitiated
Parvati, my wife, and obtained boons from her. He did not recognize the
truth that I am Ardhanaareeswara –Parvati and I share one, indivisible body.
He failed to comprehend that Parvati's blessings encompass my own. Is that
not ignorance?"
Shiva turned to Kuja. ‘Angaaraka, my son, what do you have to say to
that?!"
A hot flush of shame suffused Kuja's face. He folded his hands in respect
and said, "Father, I admit the truth of your words. My pride made me turn
away from you. I ask your forgiveness."
‘And what about Budha?" Shiva asked with a smile. "Budha, the son of
Chandra, and grandson of Atri and Anasuya, is undoubtedly exceptionally
wise and intelligent. Yet, he was unable of perceive that Ila was actually
Sudyumna in female form: his lust blunted his wisdom."
Budha nodded slowly in regret and bowed his head.
"Let's take Guru." Shiva was implacable. "Brhaspati is an intellectual
prodigy. Yet, he made himself a slave to lust. He raped Mamata, his brother
Utadhya's wife, in her husband's absence. Mamata was pregnant at that
time. When she subsequently gave birth to two boys, Brhaspati accepted the
second son as the product of his rape. That boy is none other than
Bharadvaaja. Is Brhaspati's heinous crime not an evident flaw in his
nature?"
Brhaspati's downcast eyes remained glued to the floor.
Shiva turned to Sukra. ‘And now we come to the preceptor of the asuras.
Sukra, an acknowledged poet and intellectual, was addicted to wine. Is that
not a defect?" Sukra nodded regretfully.
"There is more: Sukra abused his yogic power to rob Kubera, the cosmic
treasurer, of his wealth. That is also an irrefutable crime."
‘As for you, Sanaischara," Lord Shiva addressed Sani, "you did not commit
any crime –however, you hated Vaivasvata, Yama and Yami –children of
Samjna, your father's lawful wife. You were consumed by jealousy towards
Yama, your elder brother. I hope you all agree that hatred and envy are
certainly not divine virtues!"
Saniaschara bowed his head in silent acknowledgment of Lord Shiva's
accusation.
Lord Shiva confronted Rahu and Ketu and locked eyes with them. "You
have persistently questioned and criticized my opinion. Let me remind you
of your numerous transgressions. You attempted to obtain the amrita
fraudulently in the guise of devas . You swallowed Surya and Chandra,
depriving the three worlds of their life-giving rays. Your obsession with
vengeance adversely affected the welfare of all living beings. I think you
will admit that these are not actions worthy of godheads who are to be
universally worshipped."
The discomfited Rahu and Ketu could not meet Lord Shiva's piercing gaze.
Sri Mahavishnu stepped forward to address the embarrassed Navagrahas. "I
commend you for your humble acceptance of Lord Shiva's analysis."
‘After all, Father," Brahma said, with a twinkle in his eyes, "Lord Shiva is
the architect of the definitive treatise on punishment. I'm sure his analysis is
absolutely correct!"
"My analysis does not seek to emphasize the Navagrahas’ past misdeeds,"
Shiva smiled serenely. "My only intention is to point out how the physical
senses can wreak havoc on inherent virtue." Lord Shiva raised his arm in
benediction over the Navagrahas . "Today, your consecration under the
aegis of the Trimurti has cleansed you of all your past sins. You stand
before us now as divine forms, equipped with appropriate qualities. You are
the awesome Navagrahas : gods wielding formidable powers!"
"That was well said," Vishnu smiled at Shiva. "The kingdoms of humans,
Svaayambhuva Manu's progeny, are spread across the sacred land of
Bharatakhada. The Navagrahas will have dominion over these kingdom
too. Shiva will elaborate on the boundaries of your respective realms."
Shiva nodded in agreement and announced: "The foremost of the
Navagrahas, Surya, the Graharaju, will rule over the Kalinga Kingdom.
Chandra will exercise authority over the Yaamuna Kingdom and Angaaraka
over the Kingdom of Avanti. Budha is given sovereignty over Magadha,
and Guru over the Sindhu Kingdom. Sukra is to reign over the Kingdom of
Kambhoja, while Sanaischara gets command of the Sowraashtra Kingdom.
Rahu will rule the Barbara Kingdom and Ketu, the Kingdom of Antarvedi.
"The writ of the Navagrahas will prevail largely on the inhabitants of their
respective kingdoms." Lord Shiva paused. "There are twelve zodiac signs
corresponding to the constellations of stars in the sky." Shiva smiled at the
Creator. "Lord Brahma will now specify the constellations which each of
the grahas will command."
"All beings, particularly humans, have strong connections with the twelve
zodiac signs, depending on their time of birth. Each sign of the zodiac will
come under the command of a particular graha . The zodiac sign of every
being is allotted according to the star under which he is born. As the rulers
of the zodiac, you will effectively control the lives of humans and all other
beings."
Brahma completed his introduction and continued. "Please pay attention as
I enumerate the specifics of your authority over the zodiac … Surya
commands the zodiac sign Leo, and Chandra, Cancer. Angaaraka Kuja will
exercise authority over Aries and Scorpio, and Budha over Virgo and
Gemini. Guru rules Sagittarius and Pisces, and Sukra, Libra and Taurus.
Sanaischara has dominion over Capricorn and Aquarius. Rahu's command
will alternate between Libra, which comes under Sukra, and Virgo, which
Budha rules. Ketu will sometimes take charge of Gemini, which is under
the command of Budha, and sometimes of Pisces, which is Guru's fief."
Brahma concluded: "In short, the zodiac signs will exert a strong influence
over all beings and you will have a powerful impact on the zodiac."
‘Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani, Rahu and Ketu," Sri
Mahavishnu looked at each of them in turn. "I have a directive for you … I
willed the astral Navagrahas to be incarnated with gross bodies to facilitate
your worship by all beings, especially humans. Consequently, you were
born with physical bodies to ideal parents and have been anointed as the
Navagrahas .
"The humans whose lives depend on your influence, will worship, serve
and honor you devotedly, in order to ensure that you look upon them
favorably. In the days to come, they will erect magnificent temples in your
honour and install you there in idol form –imbuing these idols with the
power of your invocation. They will attempt to appease you with ablutions
and rites. I command you to accept their offerings and bless them in return.
Fulfill my will which gave you your glorious gross manifestations."
Sri Mahavishnu raised his hand in benediction: "You may now depart for
your abodes. May good fortune be yours!"
"May good fortune be yours!" Brahma and Shiva echoed in unison.
"So be it!" chorused the Seven Sages, maanasaputras and devas.
Surya folded his hands and saluted the Trimurti , his parents and elders.
Anoora prompted the horses –Surya's chariot moved forward resolutely.
The other grahas in turn bowed in gratitude, folded their hands in reverence
and signaled exultantly to their steeds. The Navagrahas’ chariots moved in
solemn procession and then diverged towards the direction of their
respective spheres.
The fascinated onlookers stared at the gleaming chariots until they became
distant beams of light.
Nirvikalpananda smiled at his four disciples. "That completes our account
of the Navagrahas’ consecration. While listening to the Puranas, it is
normal to question many things." One of the boys stirred. "Sadananda, if
you have any doubts, do not hesitate to voice them."
"A small doubt, master," Sadananda replied. "The first seven grahas , from
Surya to Sanaischara, command their own exclusive zodiac signs. However,
Rahu and Ketu do not have independent sovereignty over any sign. How
can this be, if all the grahas are supposedly equal?"
"Excellent reasoning!" applauded Nirvikalpananda. "Except in the matter of
lacking independent command over the zodiac signs, Rahu and Ketu are
equal to their peers in all other respects. It must be admitted that many
astrologers and sages insist that they are shadow-planets –this may be the
reason for not allotting them authority over their own zodiac signs."
He continued: "Another relevant factor here is that, based on geography,
there are various conflicting theories regarding Rahu and Ketu's dominion
over the zodiac signs. The Telugu people believe that Rahu commands
Libra, and Ketu commands Gemini. But, in fact, Sukra rules Libra and
Budha, Gemini. On the other hand, the people of Karnataka believe that
Rahu has sovereignty over Virgo, and Ketu over Pisces. But, the truth is that
Budha commands Virgo, and Guru commands Pisces."
Nirvikalpananda smiled serenely at his disciples. "By right, it is the
astrologers' duty to analyze these divergent theories and arrive at a logical
conclusion –we'll leave it to them, shall we?!"
"Master," Shivananda said. "You have given us a gripping account of the
Navagrahas’ consecration.We have also heard about their sovereignty over
the Nine Gems and Nine Grains. However, people say that the Navagrahas
also have dominion over particular trees –is this correct?"
"Yes," the master admitted, "the Navagrahas rule over nine kinds of trees. It
is generally acknowledged that one has a soft corner for things under one's
command: so, these trees are recognized as being the favourites of the
respective grahas. In fact, our scriptures hold that the Navagrahas also have
their favourite metals and tastes, along with the gems, grains and trees.
"Coming to the trees, Surya's favourite is the Jilledu (gigantic swallow
wort) and Chandra's is the Moduga (butea frondosa). Angaaraka prefers the
Chandra (mimosa catechu), and Budha the Uthareni (prickly chaff flower
plant). The Aswattha (Peepal tree) is dear to Guru, and the Udumbara (fig
tree) to Sukra. The Jammi (bulrush tree) is special for Sanaischara, and the
Garika (bent grass) and the Darbha (sacrificial grass) for Rahu for Ketu
respectively. Among these, Garika and Darbha are not trees, but grasses."
"Master," asked Sadananda, "is there any particular reason to consider these
trees and grasses as the Navagrahas ' favourites?"
Nirvikalpananda said thoughtfully, "Perhaps the medicinal properties of
these plants is the underlying reason for their selection. The special quality
of the air which touches these plants, the medicinal benefits derived from
the smoke, and the smell they emit when burned in the homam – these
could explain their elevated status.
"This is the greatest glory of our spiritual inheritance, our way of thought
and our traditions. Each god has a particular animal as his vehicle; each god
has a particular tree as his favourite. What is the unspoken significance
behind these messages?
"We unanimously worship and adore the gods. In the same way, we should
cherish those animals which serve as their vehicles. In effect, we are subtly
told not to hunt animals for food, or as a pastime. We are exhorted to refrain
from destroying the trees which the gods hold close to their hearts. This is
the golden message conveyed by our inimitable scriptures and traditions.
"Now, let us look at the various metals with respect to the Navagrahas:
Surya's favourite metal is copper and Chandra's, bronze. Kuja prefers gold,
and Budha, brass, bronze and pewter. Gold and silver are special to Guru,
and silver to Sukra. Saniaschara favours iron, and Rahu and Ketu, lead.
"When we consider the various tastes, it is spicy for Surya, salty for
Chandra, bitter for Kuja, savory for Budha, sweet for Guru, sour for Sukra,
and bitter for Sanaischara, Rahu and Ketu."
"Master," asked Chidananda, "am I correct in assuming that we must
worship the Navagrahas with offerings of their favourite tree or grass, their
preferred metal and the foods that reflect their particular tastes?"
"Yes, my son," Nirvikalpananda emphasized. "Let us take a practical
example: suppose I am fond of cheese and creamy curd … whenever you
find them, you are likely to bring them to me. Why would you do this?"
"Obviously because you like cheese and curds, master!" Shivananda smiled.
"Very well," said Nirvikalpananda, with a twinkle in his eyes. "If you give
me something I cherish, what will I give you in return?"
The disciples remained in expectant silence.
"I will give you what you like!" the master chuckled. "Yes, master!" his
pupils chorused happily.
"It is the same with our spiritual beliefs. When a devotee worships god by
offering him his favourite things, god will reciprocate by granting the
devotee what he likes. It is a simple matter of mutual exchange. This is the
reason why our wise and virtuous ancestors noted the favourite flowers,
foods, plants, etc. of the respective gods and passed on this precious
knowledge to succeeding generations."
"Master, you have indeed enlightened us!" Vimalananda's face glowed with
joy.
"Our narrative has covered the birth and life of the Navagrahas ."
Nirvikalpananda returned to his subject. "We will now go on to hear of the
glories of the Nine Planets. With that, our Navagraha Purana will be
completed.
"The Trimurti blessed the Navagrahas abundantly and bestowed power and
status on them –along with corresponding duties and obligations. Each and
every living being in the three worlds was subject to their influence.
Eminent historical and Puranic personages, towering intellectuals –why,
even the incarnations of the very Gods themselves, were swayed by their
impact. No one is exempt from the implacable influence of the Navagrahas.
"We will now acquaint ourselves with those whom the Navagrahas , in their
mercy, blessed with happy, prosperous lives." He paused. "We will also get
to know those unfortunate individuals who earned the Navagrahas’ wrath
and experienced untold misery and hardship in consequence. Let us begin
with Surya, the king of the grahas ."
Nirvikalpananda closed his eyes, folded his hands in devotion, and broke
into his chant glorifying Surya:
"Saptaasva rathamaaroodham prachandam Kasyapaatmajam!
Swethapadmadharam Devam! Tam Suryam! Pranamaamyaham!!’
I offer my salutations to Surya who rides the seven horse-chariot, who
is very passionate, who is the son of Kasyapa, who holds the white
lotus and who is God.
After a pregnant pause, the master slowly opened his eyes and looked
somberly at his disciples.
"We have reached the finest part of the Navagraha Purana . We will see
how the grahas’ lives and greatness exert their inevitable influence on us.
"Surya Bhagavan, the king of the grahas, and the foremost of the Nine
Planets, constantly lavishes two priceless gifts on the three worlds –heat
and light. All living beings depend on these gifts for their health and
sustenance. In addition to heat and light, Surya is also the dispenser of
knowledge when he pleases.
"There are some notable individuals from the Puranas who propitiated
Surya and were blessed with the gift of exceptional learning. Their stories
demonstrate Surya's glory."
"Who are they, master?" asked Sadananda, bursting with curiosity.
Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently at his enthusiasm. "They are many:
Maharshi Yaajnavalkya, Anjaneya, Sri Rama, Dharmaraja, Kunti, Draupadi
and numerous others were the recipients of Surya's magnanimity. Let us
begin with the story of Maharshi Yaajnavalkya …"
Part 3
The Glory of
the Navagrahas
OceanofPDF.com
The Glory of Surya
Japaakusuma Sankaasam kaasyapeyam mahaadyutim Tamorim sarva
paapaghnam pranatosmi Divaakaram!
I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa
flower, who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the
enemy of darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.
"S age Yaajnavalkya was King Janaka's renowned preceptor.
The sage himself gave the monarch an account of how his own guru had
denied him instruction in Vedic knowledge…" Nirvikalpananda began.
"Master," Shivananda interrupted, "who was sage Yaajnavalkya?"
"According to our mythology, Yaajnavalkya was the son of Aalambini devi
and Devaraata. Let us see what particular knowledge he wished to acquire,
why he could not acquire it and how he managed to obtain it later. One day,
Yaajnavalkya was summoned by his guru …" Nirvikalpananda resumed his
story.
Yaajnavalkya prostrated himself before his guru and stood waiting with
folded hands. "Gurudev , I am here at your command."
"Yaajnavalkya, you have come to the end of your course of study – you
may leave," the master said.
Yaajnavalkya's eyes widened in surprise at this abrupt dismissal. "Gurudev,
you have not yet blessed me with Vedic knowledge and the Saamkhya Yoga
!"
"You are not eligible to receive such knowledge," his master replied
peremptorily.
"Gurudev,” Yaajnavalkya asked anxiously, "have I unknowingly erred in
my actions? If so …"
He was cut off angrily by his master. "Clever riposte will not make you
eligible, Yaajnavalkya! You talk too much! Your actions have nothing to do
with my decision. It is your unfortunate fate, as ordained by planetary
alignment."
"Gurudev …"
"Enough!" his master snapped. "Be on your way!"
With one last look into his master's implacable, burning eyes, Yaajnavalkya
folded his hands and turned away. Weighted down by disappointment and
grief, he mechanically made his departure from the hermitage.
Heart-sore and weary, Yaajnavalkya wandered aimlessly through the forest.
The scorching sun beat down on him mercilessly, as he followed a narrow
track, roughly hewn by the passage of wild animals. He had no idea where
it led, nor did he have a destination. His master's harsh words echoed in his
ears: "You are not eligible to receive such knowledge!"
Yaajnavalkya stopped short. Why was he not eligible for advanced study?
On what criteria had his master based his decision? Again, his guru’s voice
thundered in his ears: "It is your unfortunate fate, as ordained by planetary
alignment."
Planetary … alignment … Yaajnavalkya came to a halt once more. If the
reason for his premature dismissal was the unfavourable alignment of the
planets, was there more to his master's words than met the eye? Had his
guru given him a hint? Was one of the Navagrahas unfavourably disposed
towards him? Was one of the planets eyeing him malignantly?
The chirping of birds roused him from his reverie. Suddenly conscious of
his sweat-drenched body and raging thirst, Yaajnavalkya made his way
towards the bird-song, which heralded the presence of water. After
quenching his thirst and bathing in the pool he found there, Yaajnavalkya
sat under the shade of a tree on the bank.
Like a coiled snake lifting its hood, the question of the adverse influence of
one of the Navagrahas rose to his mind. Yaajnavalkya closed his eyes and
recalled his horoscope, his nimble fingers moving in quick calculation. His
eyes reopened with a new gleam – yes, his master was right: Surya, the king
of the grahas, was ill-disposed towards him.
Surya's favour was a precondition to the acquisition of the Vedic knowledge
Yaajnavalkya craved. Very well – in that case, he would propitiate Surya
and earn his favour; he would invoke Surya and obtain his darshan .
Yaajnavalkya refused to be dissuaded by his preceptor's abrupt dismissal.
He looked around him: dusk was fast approaching. He decided to
commence his penance at an auspicious hour the next morning. His spirits
lifted and he smiled to himself. The magnanimous Surya would surely bless
him and help him gain the knowledge he desired. Mind at rest,
Yaajnavalkya settled down for the night under the tree.
The eastern sky flushed pink and gold with the light of dawn. The sun rose,
embracing the world with radiant arms. Yaajnavalkya, standing waist-deep
in the waters of the pond, offered his arghya , or ritual ablution, to the sun
god. He folded his hands in respectful salutation and recited the
Mahasankalpa mantra . Touched by the soft rays of the rising sun, the lotus
buds around him unfurled their tender petals. Yaajnavalkya smiled,
considering this to be a good omen for the success of his venture. Leaving
the pond, he chose a spot exposed to the sun's light from dawn to dusk and
commenced his tapas.
The days passed. The sun continued its diurnal journey from east to west,
but Yaajnavalkya remained oblivious to the transition of day and night. His
single-minded determination to succeed in his objective enabled him to
immerse himself in transcendental meditation instantly.
Yaajnavalkya lost all awareness of his physical senses: he was immune to
hunger and thirst, heat and cold, light and darkness.
Ultimately, the passage of time saw Yaajnavalkya triumph. A new glow
touched his half-closed eyes. His lids fluttered open tentatively, only to shut
in reflex at the blinding glare which assaulted his eyes.
"Yaajnavalkya!" A vibrant voice compelled his attention.
Yaajnavalkya slowly opened his eyes in response to the summons. An
awesome spectacle unfolded before him. A one-wheeled chariot, drawn by
seven handsome steeds, emerged from an orb of incredible radiance. On the
shaft was Aruna, the charioteer. Behind him, the god of a thousand rays sat
in majestic splendor, holding a pure white lotus in his hand. Attired in
gleaming red, his complexion resembled a crimson lotus in bloom. His
smile outdid the orb in brilliance.
"Om Suryaya Namaha! Om Suryaya Namaha!" Yaajnavalkya chanted the
Aaditya mantra with devotedly folded hands.
"Yaajnavalkya," the voice was honey-rich in timbre. "The keen ray of your
tapas has exerted its magnetic pull on my own thousand rays and brought
me here to grant you my darshan. What do you want from me?"
"Bhagavan, your adverse influence has resulted in my master refusing to
impart instruction to me. As a consequence, I have failed to gain the
knowledge I crave. Now, I ask you to grant me the invaluable Vedic wisdom
and the prose mantras of the Yajus. Let your benign face be turned towards
me," Yaajnavalkya prayed.
Surya smiled munificently and said, "Let's first take up your second wish –
I now withdraw my inimical influence and look on you auspiciously."
"Bhagavan,” Yaajnavalkya exclaimed, "I am indeed blessed!"
Surya continued: "Coming to your first wish, I hereby invoke the goddess
of words and knowledge and direct her to enter your body … open your
mouth and grant her access."
Gazing adoringly at Surya, Yaajnavalkya obediently opened his mouth. In
an instant, Goddess Saraswati appeared there before them. Mahaswetha
smiled at Yaajnavalkya, assumed a subtle form, and entered his mouth.
Yaajnavalkya shuddered uncontrollably as his body was consumed by a
fiery heat. In an instinctive bid for survival, the terrified Yaajnavalkya
dashed towards the pond, intending to jump into its cooling waters.
"Yaajna, stop!" Surya's thunderous warning halted him in his tracks.
"Goddess Saraswati's incomparable store of knowledge and writing has
entered your body. Its awesome power is the cause of the heat which wracks
your physique: it will soon pass. Endure it and meditate on Goddess
Saraswati."
In accordance with Surya's instruction, Yaajnavalkya folded his hands in
prayer. In a few moments, the fire which consumed him abated and a cool
wave engulfed his body, like a healing second skin over his burns.
"Yaajna," Surya said, "I am greatly pleased by your devotion, confidence
and penance. You have succeeded in turning my malignant influence into
one of magnanimity. You will acquire the Vedic knowledge which you crave
– the storehouse of the Yajus. Furthermore, I grant you knowledge of the
Saamkhya Yoga and the Satapatha Brahamana. Yaajna – your intellect will
bloom like the lotus in my hand. Goddess Saraswati will always abide in
you. Go your way – your wishes will be fulfilled."
Yaajnavalkya, moved to tears by Surya's abundant mercy, folded his hands
in reverence and said, "I am blessed, Bhagavan … truly, I am blessed."
Surya's chariot merged into the sky. In its place stood the glowing orb of the
sun.
As directed by Surya, Yaajnavalkya completed his morning rites and sat in
meditation on Goddess Saraswati in those sylvan surroundings.
Presently, the dulcet notes of a lute caressed his ears. The instrument
echoed the Nada Brahma – the Supreme God of Sound. Yaajnavalkya
opened his wondering eyes to find Goddess Saraswati, draped in pristine
white, standing before him. The primordial letter, Om, adorned her head as
a crown. She wore the letters of the Sanskrit alphabet as her ornaments.
Yaajnavalkya gazed in deep awe at the goddess, the personification of
letters, radiant in the light of learning. He prostrated himself at her holy feet
and rose to worship her with folded hands.
"Oh, Mother of Knowledge," Yaajnavalkya implored, "grant me the
knowledge of the Vedas."
"My son," Goddess Saraswati replied, "it was due to Surya's adverse impact
that you could not acquire the knowledge you desired. Now that you have
gained the favour of the king of the grahas , I am eager to impart that
knowledge to you."
"I am truly blessed, mother," Yaajnavalkya said. He worshipped her with
the ritual offering of water through the arghya, and sat devotedly at her feet.
Goddess Saraswati smiled benignly at him and said, "Yaajna, close your
eyes and focus on your meditation. Through my grace, all the learning of
the Vidyas will become clear to you."
Yaajnavalkya was blinded by the rays of splendor emanating from Goddess
Saraswati's large eyes. He closed his own eyes in instinctive obedience and
immersed himself in meditation. A deep swell of knowledge pervaded his
inner self like a divine fragrance. The fifteen branches of the Yajurveda took
up residence in his mind. Under Saamkhya Yoga, the flower of wisdom
bloomed in him. The riches of the great Satapatha Brahmana became his.
All this happened in one glorious flash.
Yaajnavalkya, filled with a sense of fulfillment, opened his eyes. Saraswati,
the Goddess of Knowledge, smiled at him as tenderly as a mother suckling
her babe. Lifting her right hand in benediction over him, Mahaswetha
disappeared.
Yaajnavalkya's eyes brimmed with tears of joy.
"Thus, as a result of Surya's benevolence, the goddess of knowledge herself
came in person to bless Yaajnavalkya with the knowledge of the Vedas and
Saamkhya Yoga. She bestowed on Yaajnavalkya the essence of the Yajur
Veda," Nirvikalpananda said. "The unparalleled wealth of knowledge
acquired by Yaajnavalkya through Goddess Saraswati's grace, under Surya's
benevolent influence, earned him a seat in the hall of fame.
"It is known that Visvavasu, a gandharva who had long struggled to find
logical answers to fifteen extremely difficult questions, was able to obtain
satisfying answers from Sage Yaajnavalkya. In time, Yaajnavalkya authored
a new version of the Satapatha Brahmana. Yaajnavalkya has also written a
treatise titled Yaajnavalkya Smrti, which is a veritable treasure- trove of
knowledge, and of immense value to mankind.
"So, it is evident that, without Surya's beneficial influence, it is impossible
to acquire a good education," concluded Nirvikalpananda.
"Master," Vimalananda said thoughtfully, "to be explicit, it was Goddess
Saraswati who imparted Vedic knowledge to Yaajnavalkya. Is it fair to give
Surya the credit for this?"
Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "Now, Vimalananda, let's take you as
our example. Let us assume that you are a six-year old boy. You want a
rupee. Your father is the custodian of the household finances. However, you
ask your mother for the money. She, in turn, tells your father to give you a
rupee – which he does. Now, tell me: who deserves the credit for this – your
mother or your father?"
"My mother, of course!" replied Vimalananda promptly. "It was only at her
instigation that my father gave me the rupee!"
"That's a logical reply, Vimalananda," the master said approvingly.
"Similarly, if not for Surya's grace and his benign influence, Goddess
Saraswati would not have given Yaajnavalkya her darshan and the Vedic
knowledge he deserved.
"We must keep in mind one significant fact: the gods and demigods will
strictly confine themselves to the discharge of their designated duties alone.
Surya, the king of the grahas , was well aware of the level of knowledge he
was entitled to grant. Yaajnavalkya desired advanced education in the
priceless Yajur Veda. Surya acknowledged that this was beyond his brief.
Saraswati, goddess of the word and education, the manifestation of letters,
was the one equipped to impart such knowledge.
"However, Surya voluntarily imparted such knowledge as fell within his
own ambit to a particular student who approached him …." The master
paused on a note of suspense.
"Who was that student, master?" Chidananda was agog with curiosity.
"Anjaneya," said Nirvikalpananda. "As a consequence of Surya's adverse
influence, Anjaneya had no one to instruct him. He was forced to beseech
Surya, whom he had earlier humiliated by attempting to swallow, to be his
preceptor."
"Master," said Shivananda enthusiastically, "please narrate this episode."
"Very well. Let me first tell you about Anjaneya's parents and his birth. We
shall then go on to his education. Do you all remember Punjikasthala?"
Nirvikalpananda asked.
"How could we forget, master?" Sadananda smiled wryly. "Your narrative
technique is so captivating that the details are etched permanently on our
memories! Punjikasthala was the nymph who served as a servant maid at
Brhaspati's ashram ."
"Excellent!" Nirvikalpananda smiled. "Brhaspati, infuriated by
Punjikasthala's shenanigans, cursed her to be born as a she-monkey.
Consequently, Punjikasthala was born to a heroic monkey, Kunjara, who
named her Anjana. Anjana grew to adulthood under Kunjara's tutelage.
Kunjara had a nephew, Kesari, who was valiant and phenomenally strong.
Approving of Kesari's fondness for Anjana, Kunjara gave her in marriage to
his nephew …"
Nirvikalpananda was back in the thick of his narrative.
Kesari reached the cave he shared with Anjana, his arms loaded with the
fruits he had collected in the forest. To his surprise, Anjana did not come to
meet him at the entrance, as was her wont. Calling out to her, Kesari peered
into the cave's unlit interior – Anjana was crouched in a dark corner.
Kesari looked at her in concern and asked, ‘Anjana, what is the matter? You
look listless and ill!"
Anjana heaved a sigh. "My physical health is good enough! I am sick at
heart!"
‘Anjana!" Kesari gasped in bewilderment.
"My friend, Haritaki, has become a mother … her infant son is so beautiful!
He has an adorable red face!"
"That makes you sad?"
"I am not sorry that Haritaki has a son – I am sorry for myself for not
having one!" Anjana said disconsolately.
"What can we do?" Kesari sighed in his turn. "Our married life has not been
fruitful."
"How can our marriage be truly fulfilled without progeny!" Anjana
lamented.
"Come out of the darkness, Anjana," Kesari said tenderly, "Let's talk
outside."
Kesari held out his hand to his wife. Anjana pulled herself up. Kesari put
his arm around her slender waist, led her into the sunshine and seated her on
a boulder. Sitting beside her, he gently caressed her head and listened
patiently as Anjana waxed eloquent on Haritaki's motherhood and her
newborn son's beauty.
"Let's meet our monkey physician," Kesari said consolingly. "I'll ask him to
give you some medicines which will facilitate your pregnancy."
"There is no need for a physician!"
‘Anjana!" Kesari exclaimed at her vehemence.
"We need someone who is more powerful than a mere physician," Anjana
said emphatically. "We will seek Sage Maatanga's darshan tomorrow
morning."
A divine tranquility embraced Sage Maatanga's ashram. The heady
fragrance of multi-hued blossoms pervaded the air. Anjana and Kesari made
their quiet entrance and saw Sage Maatanga seated on a dais in the shade of
a tree. A luminescent halo shone round his head and his eyes were closed in
deep meditation. Anjana, moved to devotion, extended her arm to pick a
flower to lay at his feet.
‘Anjana!" the sage's voice suddenly lashed out in warning. "Do not pluck
the flower!"
Anjana jumped back in startled alarm and looked at the sage: his eyes
remained shut! Maatanga could see them even through his closed eyes!
Holding his wife's hand, Kesari guided her towards the dais, where they
came to a respectful halt before the sage.
Sage Maatanga opened his eyes and greeted the couple with a welcoming
smile. "You are here after a long interval! Come …" Sage Maatanga
beckoned them near.
Anjana and Kesari prostrated themselves before him and touched his feet in
worship.
"May happiness be yours," Sage Maatanga said. ‘Anjana, do you know why
I warned you not to pluck the flowers?"
Anjana shook her head in bewilderment.
"In this ashram , the flowers remain eternally fresh, as if they have just
bloomed – they will never wither! Once, my disciples returned with vast
quantities of fruits for me. Due to their heavy burden, they were drenched in
sweat. At the moment of their entry into the ashram, the drops of
perspiration from their bodies fell on the flowering plants – the plants were
instantly transformed into beautiful, fragrant blossoms! In my eyes, these
are not mere flowers: they are living symbols of guru bhakti – devotion
towards the guru ."
"Your disciples are indeed fortunate!" Kesari remarked.
"I am also fortunate, Kesari – it is a master's good fortune to have sincere
disciples." The sage turned to Anjana. "I haven't set eyes on you for a long
time, Anjana," he said. "How is your father, Kunjara?"
"Father is well … but …" Anjana faltered and lowered her eyes to the
ground.
"But …?" the sage frowned. "Come on, Anjana – out with it! I am very
fond of Kunjara."
"Father is sad as I continue to remain childless."
"The father mirrors his daughter's sorrow!"
"Well said, master!" Kesari exclaimed. "How can we be happy without
children? Our life has become meaningless."
"Swami …" Anjana addressed the sage.
"Yes, Anjana – what is it?" Sage Maatanga gazed into her tear-filled eyes.
Anjana bent her head and the tears overflowed to drop on the sage's feet.
Sage Maatanga placed his palm in blessing on her bowed head. ‘Anjana!"
Anjana looked up into his eyes. "Bhagavan, bless me with a son who will
surpass his father, Kesari, and his grandfather, Kunjara, in strength and
valour!"
Sage Maatanga smiled wryly. "I do not possess such power. However, I
shall bless your effort to beget such a son. You were in my thoughts earlier
this morning. I wished to bless you and to give you my advice regarding
your course of action in this matter."
"Bhagavan!” Anjana gasped in wonder.
"Yes, Anjana," the sage said, "I can foresee your future in my mind's eye.
Propitiate Vayudeva who is also known as the Maha Praana and Mukhya
Praana – the Great Life Force. In his mercy, he will grant you the son you
desire."
"Oh … Bhagavan …” Anjana was speechless with joy.
"Tomorrow is a very auspicious day," the sage continued. "Go to the
summit of this mountain and commence your penance." He turned to
Kesari. "Kesari, it is your duty to see that Anjana's penance is not
disrupted."
"I will guard Anjana and her tapas,” Kesari declared staunchly.
Anjana and Kesari folded their hands, touched Sage Maatanga's feet in
respect and took their leave.
The next morning, Anjana and Kesari reached the summit of the mountain
and Kesari cleared a spot under the spreading branches of a tree. Anjana
bathed in a nearby pond and touched her husband's feet in reverence. She
swore a solemn oath to beget a son endowed with extraordinary strength,
vast intelligence, nobility and valour, and commenced her penance to
propitiate Vayudeva, the god of wind.
Kesari faithfully collected fruits, and washed and cleaned them in readiness
for Anjana to eat. However, steadfast in her penance, Anjana did not open
her eyes for food or water – the fruits remained untouched. Anjana rose
above the physical senses, and oblivious to hunger and thirst, lost all
consciousness of self. Kesari, transfixed by the sight of Anjana's ardent
penance, gazed in astonishment at her resolute concentration and devotion.
He mused: a mother's agonized yearning for a child cannot be fully
comprehended by a father!
As Anjana's penance continued uninterruptedly, there was a sudden change
in the atmosphere. The soft zephyr which had wafted over them, gradually
turned into a strong wind. Within moments, it picked up further momentum
and became a furious gale. Trees bent under the force of the violent
whirlwind, which shrieked through the mountain caves and lashed at the
shrubs. The massive tree under which Anjana sat, lost in penance, creaked
and bent menacingly, its branches lashing out in frenzy. The alarmed Kesari
prayed it would not be uprooted in the gale.
Anjana, immersed in a transcendental state beyond time, space and reason,
remained oblivious to the raging pandemonium around her. Kesari stood
astounded by her concentration.
Gradually, the gale lost its force and subsided into a gentle breeze once
more. The furious shriek of the tempest which shook the trees, animals and
the very mountain itself, receded into the depths of the forest. Kesari, who
had taken shelter in a cave, emerged into the calm and looked at Anjana –
his wife remained lost in in serene contemplation.
"Salutations to the primeval couple!" Vayudeva, the god of wind, prostrated
himself before Lord Shiva and Parvati on Mount Kailash.
"May happiness be yours," Lord Shiva blessed him. "How are you, Vayu?"
"How can I be anything but in the best of health and spirits when I bear
Lord Shiva's awesome tejas in my stomach?!" Vayu smiled in reply.
"Lord Shiva's awesome tejas?… in your stomach? What do you mean,
Vayu?" Goddess Parvati asked in bewilderment.
"Yes, mother," Vayu said, "have you forgotten the time when you and your
divine spouse frolicked together in the assumed form of monkeys?"
"Oh … that monkey business!" Lord Shiva smiled at Parvati with a twinkle
in his eyes.
‘At that time," Vayu continued, "Lord Shiva entrusted me with his semen,
commanding me to keep it safely in my stomach. Since that day, I have
faithfully carried your charge on my head – and the luster of your tejas in
my stomach!"
"Very well, Vayu," Lord Shiva asked, “but why are you bringing this up
now?"
"Bhagavan,” Vayu explained, ‘Anjana, daughter of the warrior-monkey,
Kunjara, and wife of Kesari, another warrior-monkey, is immersed in tapas
, propitiating me for the gift of a son. I am pleased by her penance. I am
here to request your permission to bestow the great Rudra Veerya on the
virtuous Anjana."
"Certainly, Vayu," Lord Shiva agreed promptly. ‘Anjana was an apsara in
her previous birth. She was reborn as a monkey due to Brhaspati's curse.
Anjana is undoubtedly worthy of begetting a son with my tejas.”
‘Anjana, who shows such fortitude in her tapas, will definitely nurture the
child and rear him to reach his full potential," Goddess Parvati added.
"Go, Vayu," Lord Shiva commanded, "bestow the fruit of my tejas on
Anjana." He continued, ‘Anjana's son will achieve great fame and will be
renowned as your son too!"
"I am blessed, indeed!" Vayu said humbly, with folded hands.
Kesari sighed at the heap of untouched fruits. Anjana remained engrossed
in her unrelenting tapas . He had no idea when her penance would end – but
he would steadfastly continue to guard her and bring her delicious fruits and
honey, in the hope that she would break her fast. Praying to Vayu, the god
of wind, to grant his wife's wish soon, Kesari went to forage in the forest.
The wind blowing on the summit abruptly took on the fierce aspect of a
tempest and whirled around Anjana, who remained like a stone statue,
oblivious to its force. Gradually, the whirlwind subsided into a gentle
breeze.
‘Anjana!" the voice roared like a lion in its den. Anjana shuddered in
response to the thunderous summons, which reverberated in her ears. Her
eyes slowly fluttered open to see a gargantuan form hovering before her. Its
contours were vague, as if shrouded by a thin veil of gauze. The body
gleamed a dull gold behind the shimmering curtain. The apparition held a
huge, golden mace on his left shoulder. Anjana stared at him in awe.
"Anjana," the voice resonated in all directions from that divine, colossal
form, "I am Vayudeva, the god of wind."
"My lord … you heard my prayer!" Anjana exclaimed in delight and
offered her humble salutation to the wind god.
"I am pleased with your flawless penance. You yearn to become a mother. I
will now bestow the all-powerful tejas on you. Its mighty luster will engulf
your body and enter your sacred womb, to grow within its protective walls.
In due course, it will be born as the son you long to cradle tenderly in your
lap." As he spoke, Vayudeva raised his palm over her in benediction.
Rays of shimmering gray radiated from his palm and swamped Anjana's
entire form. In an instant, the divine emanation vanished, having been
absorbed into Anjana's body.
‘Anjana," Vayudeva smiled magnanimously, "you will bear a son with the
amsa of Lord Paramashiva. He will be endowed with extraordinary strength
and intelligence and shine as a mighty warrior and exemplary scholar.
Through him, your name will be immortal. He will achieve renown as
Vayuputra, Vatatmaja and Maruti. He will be the shining example which
proves that the vanara (monkey) is greater than the nara (human)."
"Bhagavan,” Anjana said with tears in her eyes, "I am blessed – my life has
become truly meaningful." She folded her hands in reverence.
In the next instant, Vayudeva disappeared with the roaring sound of wind
whooshing into a cave. Anjana, emerging from her transformational
encounter, looked round eagerly for her husband.
‘Anjana!" she heard him call, as he returned from the forest with his
collection of fruits.
Anjana flew to him with the glad tidings.
The seasons came and went. The goddess of time changed her attire to suit
each season, laying on a continuous feast for the eyes. Buds blossomed into
flowers, flowers into unripe fruits and then into succulent, mature fruits.
Anjana's womb swelled with her pregnancy, like the waxing moon. She
shone like a lotus bud, as a strange, new, radiant beauty suffused her entire
being. Her divine loveliness was a delight to every heart and eye. It was a
transcendental beauty, which went deeper than the merely physical. Kesari
lavished his affectionate care on his glowing wife.
On the tenth day of the dark half of the month of Vaisakh , at an auspicious
time, Anjana delivered a baby boy. The infant was golden complexioned,
with a red face. A yellow robe was wrapped round his tiny waist. Golden
ornaments, studded with precious gems, adorned his little body: sparkling
necklaces and earrings, and bracelets clinking on his arms. The sacred
thread of the yajnopaveetam was tied across his shoulders. Anjana and
Kesari were astonished to see the newborn baby thus richly attired and
adorned.
Suddenly, a gentle zephyr, laden with sweet fragrance, crept into the inner
reaches of the cave. In its wake came Vayudeva – the god of wind. Anjana
and Kesari offered their salutations to him.
"Bhagavan Vayu," Anjana greeted him with tears of joy, "your boon has
fructified. I am the blessed mother of a baby boy!"
"I am also blessed, Anjana!" Kesari added with a broad grin.
"Yes," Vayudeva smiled at them. "Yours is an exemplary marriage!" He
tenderly gathered the infant into his arms. "Lord Shiva's holy force has
taken birth as your son. This child will be the manifestation of phenomenal
strength. He will be renowned as Anjaneya, Anjanakumar and
Kesarinandan. As Vayuputra, Maruti and Paavani, he will immortalize my
name. All three of us are very fortunate!"
"Bhagavan,” Anjana implored, “be my son's protector."
"Certainly, Anjana: it will be my pleasure. No harm will befall your son as
long as I, Mahaprana, am present!" Vayu placed a tender kiss on the baby's
forehead and said, "Name him Anjaneya." He passed the infant to Kesari,
who gathered him into his warm embrace. Blessing the parents and child,
the god of wind vanished into the blue sky.
As a flower dispenses its inherent fragrance as it blossoms, the infant
Anjaneya demonstrated his prodigious strength as he grew. His antics were
a source of continuous delight and pride to his parents. Time passed.
One day, Anjana and Kesari emerged from the cave in search of Anjaneya.
Suddenly, flowers and unripe fruit rained down on them from the thick
foliage of a nearby tree. They peered up to see the young Anjaneya perched
on a branch, biting into the raw fruit, before throwing them uneaten to the
ground.
"Anjaneya, my boy! Climb down from the trees, son! Come to me!" Anjana
walked towards the tree, as her little boy jumped down, throwing away the
last of the gnawed fruits.
Anjana lifted the child into her arms and hugged him. "Now, now, my son
… is it right to pluck the fruit and throw them away like that?!" she
exclaimed in gentle reprimand.
"They do not taste good, mother," Anjaneya replied with a grimace.
"That is because they are raw, my son. You should pluck only ripe fruits,
which are red in colour: they will be tasty."
"Oh … ripe fruits are red, is it, mother?" Anjaneya asked curiously.
"Yes, my son," Anjana emphasized. "Unripe fruits are green and ripe fruits
are red. You should be careful not to waste the fruit buds and the green
fruits."
"Yes, mother," Anjaneya said obediently, before slipping from her arms to
run towards his father, Kesari, who carried a pile of red fruit in his arms.
Anjaneya stood at mouth of the cave, looking after his mother's receding
back. Anjana was off to the forest to forage for food. It was dawn. The
eastern horizon blazed with light as the rising sun spread its first rays over
the earth. Anjaneya gazed in fascination at the blazing play of colours in the
sky. The red orb of the sun slowly glided above the horizon. Suddenly, a
frown marred Anjaneya's brow – the rising sun was just like the round, red
fruits his parents gave him.
"You should pluck only ripe fruits, which are red in colour: they will be
tasty." Anjaneya recalled his mother's words. He stared at the eastern
horizon. The ripe red fruit slowly climbed higher into the sky – his mouth
watered at the succulent sight!
Anjaneya peered into the cave: to his relief, his father, Kesari, was nowhere
to be seen. He turned back to the east. Holding his breath, he leaped into the
sky, held his tail erect and flew unerringly like an arrow towards the 'red
fruit' hanging temptingly before him. A cool wind caressed his face as he
accelerated and sped towards the east. He looked down at the thick forests
and mighty mountains which clothed the earth and rushed backwards as he
continued on his passage across the vast expanse of the sky.
Anjana, busy collecting fruits for her beloved little boy, looked up
instinctively to see him whizzing across the sky. She turned and ran in panic
to their cave. Kesari stood at the cave entrance, staring open-mouthed at the
sight of his son flying past in the sky. Anjana came to stand close beside
him, cold dread gripping her heart.
Anjaneya continued to accelerate, gradually reducing the distance between
him and the 'red fruit.'
Indra, enjoying the spectacular sunrise from the Nandana garden, gave a
gasp of astonishment on seeing a little monkey flashing towards the sun's
orb. Assuming that some evil force, in the guise of a monkey, was bent on
swallowing Surya, the alarmed Indra immediately set out for the mountain
of the sunrise on his royal elephant, Airavata. The divine architect,
Viswakarma, and the guardians of the eight directions, followed the king of
the devas.
Even as Indra and his agitated entourage hurried on, Anjaneya reached
dangerously close to Surya.
"You monkey child! Stop right there!" Indra roared his warning. "Turn
around and go back from where you came."
The young Anjaneya snarled at Indra before turning away indifferently.
Indra was enraged at the little monkey's insolent defiance. In a trice, Indra
hurled his weapon, the vajrayudha, towards the monkey, who was on the
verge of swallowing Surya. The vajra hit Anjaneya on his jaw. At its
tremendous impact, Anjaneya hurtled to the earth, where he fell
unconscious on the ground.
Vayudeva, the god of wind, erupted in fury at Indra's callous failure to
acknowledge and respect Vayu's relationship with the young Anjaneya.
How dare Indra attack his son with the vajrayudha?
Assuming his gross form, the wind god tenderly picked up the unconscious
Anjaneya in his arms and rushed to Kesari's cave. On entering the cave,
Vayudeva deliberately withdrew his action on the three worlds – at once,
the wind died down completely. Consequently, the animate world drew to a
standstill and became inanimate. Indra, the guardians of the directions and
all the other devas stood as still as statues. Unable to glide on the wind
currents, birds lost the power of flight and hovered immobilized in the air.
All the worlds were poised on the edge of extinction, as beings gasped for
breath and struggled to overcome death through suffocation.
Brahma, aware of imminent catastrophe, rushed to Kesari's cave.
"Vayu," Brahma asked, "where is your beloved son?" He gathered the boy
into his arms and delicately caressed him with his right hand. Under the
divine touch of the Creator, the unconscious Anjaneya emerged from his
coma.
"Vayu," Brahma urged the wind god, "release your life-giving breezes and
let the worlds live. I assure you that your son is safe and will remain safe
forever!"
Bowing to Brahma's wish, Vayudeva released his force and reanimated the
three worlds. Every being regained its movement and inhaled the life-
giving air in grateful relief.
Brahma summoned Indra, the astadikpalakas and Viswakarma to the cave.
At the same time, Lord Shiva also appeared there on his own volition.
Indra looked ruefully at the deep scar inflicted on the boy's jar by his
vajrayudha and said, "My vajrayudha has left a cleft on the boy's jaw, or
Hanu. I therefore declare that, henceforth, he will be known as Hanuman. I
grant Hanuman this boon: he will never again be vulnerable to my vajra.”
Brahma came forward to lay his palm on the boy's head. "My divine missile
– the Brahmastra, will have no impact on Hanuman. I grant him the boon
of longevity. He will be a Chiranjeevi: an immortal."
It was Lord Shiva's turn. "I ordain that Anjaneya will never be wounded by
my Trident or the Rudra-astra and Pasupatha-astra missiles."
Varuna, the god of the waters, decreed that Hanuman would remain immune
to his power.
Agni, the god of fire, granted Hanuman protection from fire.
Kubera, the god of wealth, gifted Hanuman with his mace.
The other devas followed suit and showered boons on the young Hanuman.
The child, Anjaneya, empowered by the munificent gifts of the gods, grew
up in Anjana's care. Kesari taught him the science of wrestling: in an
incredibly short span of time, Anjaneya became a past-master in combat.
When Anjaneya expressed his desire to study the scriptures, Anjana
immediately thought of Brhaspati, the preceptor of the gods.
"My son," Anjana said, "Brhaspati, the deva-guru, is a powerhouse of
knowledge. There is no scripture which he does not know, or which he
cannot teach – furthermore, he believes in imparting free education to all.
Go to his ashram and request him to accept you as his disciple."
After obtaining his parents' permission and blessings, Anjaneya set out for
Brhaspati's hermitage.
Brhaspati looked up from his explication of a Vedic sukta and gazed intently
at the young monkey who approached him.
Anjaneya stood at a respectable distance, folded his hands in salutation and
said, "Gurudev, my pranam. I am Anjaneya, the son of Anjana and Kesari.
My mother, Anjana, advised me to approach your eminence for my
education. Please accept me as your pupil and impart to me the knowledge
of the scriptures."
Brhaspati, his eyes half-closed, remained in thoughtful silence. Anjana …
Anjaneya … Punjikasthala … Anjaneya! Yes! Anjana had been
Punjikasthala in her previous birth! As the realization dawned, Brhaspati
looked at Anjaneya with new eyes and smiled fondly at him.
"Anjanakumar, I appreciate your thirst for knowledge of the scriptures but
… I cannot instruct you."
"Gurudev!" Anjaneya exclaimed in rude shock. "May I know the reason for
this?"
"I cannot instruct you because I cannot accept you as my disciple,"
Brhaspati stated.
"Why, gurudev?" Anjaneya asked, "I beg you to tell me."
"I cannot impart knowledge to monkeys," Brhaspati admitted ruefully.
"Gurudev …" Anjaneya faltered.
"Let me explain, Anjaneya," Brhaspati said. "Regardless of a person's
greatness, he is bound by certain limitations and conditions. This applies to
me also. I did not accept my own son, Taara, as my disciple. I did not give
him an education!"
Disappointment oozed from Anjaneya's eyes. Brhaspati looked back
compassionately at the young monkey with impeccable manners and innate
courtesy.
"However," the deva-guru continued, "just as there are individuals whose
actions are constrained by certain limitations, there are other individuals
who are free from all such restrictions."
"Gurudev,” Anjaneya asked eagerly, "Who are they?" The beginnings of
hope stirred in his eyes.
"Look up into the sky above!"
Anjaneya obeyed Brhaspati.
"Who do you see spreading his light on the three worlds, Anjaneya?" the
deva-guru asked with a smile.
"The sun, the god of light."
"Go to him," Brhaspati advised, "Seek refuge at his feet."
"Gurudev, are you suggesting that I approach the sun in the sky?" Anjaneya
asked in bewilderment.
"Yes, my boy," Brhaspati reiterated. "The god of light will bless you with
the light of knowledge."
Anjaneya folded his hands and bowed in reverence.
"May you achieve your objective," Brhaspati blessed him.
‘After all, he is the mentor of the gods," Kesari sympathized with his son.
"Perhaps that is why he looks down on the monkey race."
"No, father," Anjaneya remained fair. "We must not misjudge that great
guru – his own son, Taara, is a monkey like us. Brhaspati declined to
educate him too: the guru himself revealed this to me."
"Hanuman, follow Brhaspati's advice," Anjana was resolute. "Go and
propitiate Suryadeva."
Doubt clouded Anjaneya's eyes. "Mother, as a little boy, I tried to swallow
him – I humiliated him!" He heaved a rueful sigh. "He may be angry with
me, mother!"
Anjana smiled at her son. "Bhagavan Surya is the king of the grahas. He is
worshipped as the kinsman of all the world. His anger will be fleeting!"
"What if we change his anger into compassion?" Kesari suggested.
"That is an excellent idea," Anjana agreed. She turned to her son. "First,
pray to Surya, asking his forgiveness. Then, pray for his munificence. The
deva-guru would not guide you to Bhagavan Surya without a valid reason."
"Do you think Suryadeva will forgive me, mother?" Anjaneya asked
wistfully.
"Of course, my son!" Anjana was emphatic. "He will certainly forgive you
– for all we know, he may have quite enjoyed your childish prank!"
Anjaneya touched his parents' feet in respect. "Bless me … I am on my
way!"
Surya smiled at the young monkey standing before him.
"Bhagavan, the son of Anjana and Kesari salutes you," Anjaneya said with
respectfully folded hands.
"Hanuman?"
Anjaneya flushed in embarrassment. "Bhagavan, in my childish ignorance,
I mistook you for a ripe fruit and attempted to swallow you. Please forgive
my foolish impetuosity."
Surya looked at the youth kneeling before him in abject repentance and
smiled in amusement. "I forgave you then itself, Hanuman. It was but a
childish prank, wasn't it?"
"Bhagavan!” Anjaneya exclaimed in relief. His face glowed with
happiness. "Then, show me your mercy – please bestow on me the
knowledge of the scriptures. Be my mentor!"
"Hanuman, get up, my boy!" Anjaneya came to his feet and stood with his
head bowed in obedience. "Your birth has been predestined for great things.
Your strength, which enabled you to approach me in spite of my intense
heat, is incredible. Although you are born into the monkey race, you crave
knowledge of the scriptures: this is extraordinary and highly commendable!
I accept you as my student and disciple."
"Bhagavan , I am fortunate indeed!"
"Hanuman, I will teach you the eighteen disciplines, or Astaadasa Vidyas
this comprises of the four Vedas viz. Rigveda, Yajurveda, Saamaveda and
Atharvaveda; the six Angas: Siksha, Vyaakarana, Chandas, Nirukta,
Jyotisha and Kalpa; the scriptures called Meemamsa, Nyaaya Sabda,
Dharma, Artha ayurveda, Dhanurveda and the Puranas.
"Mastery of even one of these eighteen disciplines qualifies one to be
considered an eminent scholar. I will pay special attention to Vyaakarana,
grammar being the life-blood of a language. I will make you a past master
in all the nine grammars – you will become a Nava Vyaakarana Pandit ."
"Bhagavan, I am truly blessed!"
"I will also make you adept in the discipline of pronunciation, or Siksha . I
will teach you the flawless pronunciation of words and sentences," Surya
continued.
Anjaneya folded his hands in speechless delight.
"However, there is one obstacle."
Anjaneya looked at Surya questioningly.
"I must be constantly on the move to dispense light and heat to the three
worlds. This means that I cannot sit in one place and impart knowledge to
you."
Anjaneya staunchly declared, "I will fly in your wake, as you travel across
the sky, and receive your instruction."
Surya's eyes widened in surprise. Slowly, an admiring smile spread across
his face. "If you do accomplish this feat, Hanuman, you will indeed prove
yourself worthy to be my disciple!"
"Everything depends on your mercy, Bhagavan!”
"You have pleased me with your exemplary obedience and devotion. I will
bestow on you all the disciplines of learning. From this moment, you are
my student. Follow me and we will embark on our voyage of learning. I
shall commence your education with the recitation of the primeval letter –
the Pranava, which is the reflection of the Supreme God and the Naada
Brahma,” Surya said. In a solemn voice, which echoed through the vast
reaches of space, the Sun god recited, "Om!”
Anjaneya, inspired by his new mentor, repeated the awesome Omkar after
him.
From dawn to dusk, Surya uninterruptedly imparted education to this most
talented of students – one with unparalleled powers of comprehension.
Surya was impressed by Anjaneya's unswerving perseverance, as he kept
pace with his master's rapid transit across the skies, not stopping for even a
brief moment of respite, and grasping every lesson at one telling. At the
same time, Anjaneya's sterling obedience and devotion touched Surya's
heart.
Moving closely in Surya's wake, like his shadow, Anjaneya completed his
period of instruction in an incredibly short span of time. Vedas, Vedaangas,
scriptures and Puranas – all the eighteen disciplines of education were soon
stored in Anjaneya's prodigious brain.As a result of the special emphasis
Surya placed on grammar, Anjaneya mastered all the nine significant
grammars: a phenomenal feat of scholarship!
Bidding farewell to his dearest disciple, who had mastered all the
disciplines, exceeding his wildest expectations, Bhagavan Surya said, "Your
education is complete, Hanuman. While imparting knowledge to you, I
have simultaneously tested your grasp on my earlier lessons. You have
passed that test too with flying colours! The study of the Saamaveda having
aroused your latent musical talent, you will become an expert in singing,
composing tunes and creating new ragas. The mode of pronunciation you
have mastered will become renowned throughout the three worlds."
Surya held out his hand in fond benediction. "You may leave, Hanuman –
my blessings will always be with you, my boy!"
Hanuman gazed at his divine preceptor with brimming eyes and said,
"Bhagavan, I am indebted to you. I would like to offer you a fee as a token
of my gratitude to my master. Grant me this honour and name your guru
dakshina ."
Surya smiled enigmatically at him. "In time to come, you will perform a
great service which will comprise my guru dakshina. That offering will be
precious to me, your guru . You will realize this when you undertake that
task. Fare thee well, my boy!"
Anjaneya folded his hands in deep reverence to the preceptor who had
lavished on him a wealth of knowledge and affection.
"And thus, Anjaneya successfully concluded his course of education,"
Nirvikalpananda reached the end of this segment of his narrative.
"Master," Shivananda asked curiously, "what was the service Anjaneya
rendered later, in order to fulfill his guru dakshina to his mentor?"
"During the period of Sri Rama's incarnation, Anjaneya rendered invaluable
service to Sri Rama."
"But Master," Shivananda frowned in puzzlement, "how does Anjaneya's
service to Sri Rama translate into Surya Bhagavan’s guru dakshina ?"
Nirvikalpananda laughed. "Sadananda, tell me: to which lineage did Sri
Rama belong?"
"The solar lineage, master," Sadananda replied promptly.
"Surya was aware that the object of Anjaneya's incarnation was to serve the
Rama avatar of Lord Vishnu as a true Arrow of Rama.' The Sun god hinted
that Anjaneya would be offering him his guru dakshina by serving Sri
Rama, who would be born in his lineage."
"That was so interesting, master," Vimalananda sighed. ‘Are there more
incidents which demonstrate Surya's glory?"
"There are, my boy, there are! Both Sri Rama, during the Tretayuga, and
Dharmaraja, the eldest of the Pandavas, during the Dvaaparayuga , were
recipients of Surya's magnanimity.
"In the Lankan war, Sri Rama was unable to slay Ravana with his powerful
arrows. Undeterred, Ravana persevered in his aggressive offensive against
Sri Rama, showering him with missiles in his turn. Disturbed by this
avalanche of weapons, the grahas moved from their ordained orbits. Sri
Rama was in a grave dilemma. At that juncture, Sage Agastya visited the
battlefield and explained that Surya's unfavourable influence was the cause
of Rama's predicament.
"Ramachandra, it is the planets' malignant impact which impedes your
victory. I will initiate you into the powerful Aditya Hrdaya. Chant the stotra
with single-minded concentration. Aditya Surya Bhagavan, the fore-genitor
of your solar dynasty – he who grants longevity and victory, will turn his
magnanimous face towards you. Once that happens, slaying the demon,
Ravana, will be easily accomplished!" Agastya advised.
"Sri Rama consented and received the sacred Aditya Hrdaya hymn from
Sage Agastya. Having performed the ordained preliminary rites, he
fervently recited the stotra, as directed by the sage. His single-minded
devotion touched Surya's heart and the king of the grahas lavished his
benignant rays on Sri Rama. With renewed valour, Sri Rama took up his
bow and, in a short time, killed the demon, Ravana."
Nirvikalpananda paused and looked at his disciples.
"Master," enthused Chidananda, "your story linking Sri Rama's destiny in
the Tretayuga with Surya's glory, is fascinating. Please tell us how
Dharmaraja benefited from Surya's favourable influence."
"I am coming to it, Chidananda," Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently. "This
episode demonstrates how Dharmaraja gained Surya's mercy. Having lost
everything in the notorious game of dice, Dharmaraja, accompanied by his
four brothers and his wife, Draupadi, commenced his exile in the forest.
They were followed by a group of Brahmin scholars who were devoted to
the Pandavas.
"One day, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva went deep into the forest to
forage for fruits and edible roots to satisfy their hunger …"
With that, Nirvikalpananda resumed his narrative.
Dharmaraja approached his guru, Dhoumya, who was relaxing in the shade
of a tree.
The sage looked up and said, "Dharmaraja, why this sorrowful
countenance? Is something wrong?"
Dharmaraja heaved a deep sigh and sat beside the sage. "Gurudev, it pains
me to observe the sorry plight of the learned Brahmins, including you, who
have followed us to the forest. You are entitled to reverence as gods on
earth … yet here you are, enduring the pangs of hunger and thirst. I am
unable to provide you with proper food – I am reduced to offering you roots
and leaves instead! What shall I do? I beg your advice."
Dhoumya stared thoughtfully at the eldest Pandava for a while. The sage
closed his eyes … his right thumb tapped his fingers in brisk calculation.
His computation done, the sage looked up and locked eyes with the prince:
"Dharamraja, it was Sani's malign influence which pushed you into playing
dice and wagering all your worldly possessions, including your brothers and
your wife. Consequently, you are now living in the forest. Here, the scarcity
of food stares you in the face. The reason for your present hardship is
Surya, the king of the planets … Surya does not look on you favourably."
"Gurudev!” Dharmaraja exclaimed in anguish at this news. Then, a smile
dawned slowly on his face. "In that case, if I were to bring about the
favourable influence of the planets, I would not have to live here like a
destitute."
"Yes, Dharmaraja," Dhoumya nodded approvingly. ‘A man is duty-bound to
attempt to rectify the adverse impact of the Navagrahas . You must earn
Bhagavan Surya's mercy. He has not been anointed the Graharaju – king of
the grahas, merely for the sake of form. He is considered to be kin to all
living beings. Bhagavan Surya, who bestowed knowledge on Sage
Yaajnavalkya and Anjaneya, is not only the dispenser of learning – he is
also Annadaata : the Dispenser of Sustenance.
"Not just gods, demons and men – but also birds and animals … in short, all
living beings, including trees and plants, depend on Surya Bhagavan for
their food. He is also instrumental in providing the water essential for life. It
is he who makes the water evaporate and fall on the worlds as life-giving
rain. He who is fortunate enough to enjoy Bhagavan Surya's magnanimity
will never want for food." Dhoumya urged Dharmaraja: "You must worship
Surya immediately. Surya's merciful intervention is the only way out of
your predicament."
‘As you command, gurudev,” Dharmaraja bowed in agreement. "But, what
is the method involved?"
"I will teach you the prescribed rite of homage to Bhagavan Surya," the
sage replied. "Bhagavan Surya is to be worshipped by reciting his one
hundred and eight sacred names. Each of these names equals one mantra .
Indra taught these 108 names to Sage Narada, who in turn passed them on
to Emperor Vasu. I received the sacred names from the emperor."
"So, Bhagavan Surya's sacred names comprise the wealth of generations,"
Dharmaraja said admiringly.
"Yes, Dharmaraja," Dhoumya smiled. "And now, you are to inherit that
priceless spiritual heritage. The recitation of the names requires mastery
over two skills: one is comprehending the meaning of each name and the
other is the correct pronunciation of the 108 names. I will now teach you
the meanings and the accurate pronunciation of every letter of each name.
Once I have completed my instruction, take a dip in the holy waters of the
Ganga. Standing in the waters, face the east and pay homage to Bhagavan
Surya by reciting his sacred names. The early hours of the coming day are
particularly auspicious for this worship. At dawn, secure the darshan of the
rising orb of the sun and commence your prayer."
Dharmaraja nodded in eager agreement and folded his hands in respect to
Sage Dhoumya.
The flush of dawn was faintly visible in the eastern sky. Dharmaraja, having
been inducted into the mysteries of Surya's 108 names, asked his guru’s
permission to commence his worship.
"May Surya Bhagavan shower his mercy on you," Dhoumya blessed
Dharmaraja. "May victory be yours!"
As the sun rose above the eastern horizon, Dharmaraja, standing waist-deep
in the holy waters of the Ganga, commenced his recital of Surya
Bhagavan’s names.
Armed with his knowledge of the true meanings of Surya's names, and with
flawless pronunciation, Dharmaraja performed his Surya aradhana:
worshipping Surya with his offering of the Graharajus sacred names. He
kept his eyes fixed on the sun's red orb which appeared as a vermillion tilak
on the beautiful forehead of the east. In single-minded concentration,
Dharmaraja stared unblinkingly at the sun, opening his inner self to the all-
pervading essence of Bhagavan Surya. In a while, his eyelids dropped over
his eyes on their own accord.
With his inner eyes, Dharmaraja now perceived Surya's form ensconced in
his heart. He continued to direct his rays of mediation towards the god of a
thousand rays. He was oblivious to the passage of time. Minutes and hours,
day and night – every distinction was blurred.
"Dharmaraja!"
The pleasant sound of his name reached Dharmaraja's ears and gently
nudged him out of his deep meditation. His eyelids fluttered open … his
eyes widened in surprise at the enthralling panorama which emerged before
him.
Against the azure background of the cloudless sky, hovered a
single¬wheeled equipage drawn by seven horses. With Aruna on the
vehicle's yoke, Bhagavan Surya sat majestically in the golden chariot.
Dharmaraja folded his hands and raised them in exultant homage above his
head. "Oh Bhagavan! Dispenser of all sustenance … a thousand salutations
to you!"
"Dharmaraja," the Sun god replied, "your homage has pleased me with its
single-minded devotion. Henceforth, my munificent face will be turned on
you. I bestow on you the divine akshaya-paatra, an inexhaustible vessel –
any food prepared by your wife with roots and fruits will be transformed
into the four varieties of food: bhaksya , bhojya , lehya and choshya, to
satisfactorily appease your hunger."
"I am blessed indeed, Bhagavan !
"Come, receive the inexhaustible vessel," Surya's voice resonated across the
sky.
Dharmaraja bent forward in reverence and obediently held out his hands. In
an instant, a gleaming copper vessel materialized in his open palms.
"Bhagavan, how blessed I am!" Dharmaraja's eyes brimmed with tears of
joy.
"Dharmaraja, my beneficence towards you has made you fortunate. This
divine, inexhaustible akshaya-paatra will sate your company's hunger till
the end of your exile. May good fortune continue to be yours!"
Surya disappeared and Dharmaraja gradually emerged from his trance.
Sending up a prayer of silent gratitude to Surya, he set out for his camp in
the forest, where Dhoumya and his entourage of Brahmins felicitated
Dharmaraja for securing the divine akshaya-paatra.
From that day, the food cooked by Draupadi metamorphosed into four
varieties of dishes, satisfying the taste buds and stomachs of the Pandavas
and their Brahmin followers.
"Dharmaraja, who successfully secured Bhagavan Surya's grace, is a role
model for all of us who wish to worship Surya," Nirvikalpananda said.
"Master, it is good to know that Surya is the dispenser of both knowledge
and sustenance!" exclaimed Shivananda in satisfaction.
"Yes," agreed the master, "without Bhagavan Surya, there would be no food
or water for living beings. With that, we come to the end of our discourse
regarding Surya's glory. We will now proceed to hear of the glory of the
next graha – Chandra."
The Glory of Chandra
“Dadhi Sankha Tushaaraabham Kshirodaarnava sambhavam!
Namaami Sasinam Somam Sambhormakuta bhushanam!!"
I offer my salutations to Sasi who is known as Soma (Chandra) who
shines like curds, the conch and snow, who rose from the Ocean of
Milk, who is the ornament on Sambhu’s (Lord Shiva) crown.
"N ow we come to the glory of Chandra, who is the overlord
of medicinal plants, and exerts a powerful influence on the mind,
particularly on water. We see how the ocean responds to the touch of
Chandra's rays on a full moon night – its tides rising as if to reach out to
him in the sky. This eternal phenomenon categorically establishes Chandra's
influence on water."
Shivananda's eyes twinkled. "Master, I think several people in the Puranic
age were influenced by Chandra's good looks!"
Nirvikalpananda joined in the general laughter and then continued, "We
have discussed this matter several times. Let me reiterate: the 'present'
denotes the happenings of the current day, while 'history' refers to the
events of the recent past – however, the Puranas are historical records
which go back to the furthest reaches of time past. In order to enhance our
understanding of some concept, or analyze an exemplary deed, we draw
inferences from the historical or Puranic lives of people – this is an
established scholarly practice. The individual we consider need not
necessarily feature in epics such as the Ramayana, the Mahabharata or the
Bhagavata. He may be a character mentioned in some other literary work."
The disciples nodded in comprehension.
"We will now consider an individual who does not find mention in the
Puranas, but finds his place in more recent literature," Nirvikalpananda
said.
"In which work does he feature, master?" Sadananda asked.
"Have any of you heard of the Brhatkatha ?"
The four disciples exchanged puzzled glances and then shook their heads in
unison.
"The Brhatkatha is a veritable ocean of literature. It was written by an
ancient poet, Gunaadhya, in the Paisaachi language …"
"Paisaachi?!” Chidananda exclaimed. "Who can understand that
language?"
"Those who are familiar with the language can understand it!"
Nirvikalpananda smiled in wry amusement. "However, such people are
few! To redress this shortcoming, and make the Brhatkatha 's literary
wealth accessible to a larger body of readers, some poets have translated it
into Sanskrit. Kshemendra's translation is the Brhat Katha Manjari which is
not as exhaustive as the original. However, the poet Somadeva's version, the
Katha Sarit Saagaram, has treated it in its full length."
"We are familiar with that title, master!" Chidananda said excitedly.
"The Katha Sarit Saagaram contains an episode which demonstrates
Chandra's influence on events. Although the text does not explicitly state
that Chandra's influence was the reason for the hardships faced by a
particular individual, it is the logical conclusion which can be drawn from
the narration. It is an irrefutable fact that every living being falls under the
Navagrahas’ influence."
"Your explication is eminently logical, master," Vimalananda declared
staunchly.
"Any assertion, or explanation, which is not based on sound logic lacks
credibility," Nirvikalpananda cautioned. "Now, let us hear the story of King
Yogananda, who ruled his kingdom from his capital, Pataliputra. His son,
prince Hiranyagupta, was a passionate hunter. One day, the prince decided
to set out on a hunting expedition …"
As King Yogananda sat in consultation with his minister, Sakataala, and the
court astrologer, Hiranyagupta entered the chamber.
The king smiled fondly at his beloved son. The extremely handsome and
virile Hiranyagupta, his only son, took after his father in his regal
demeanour.
"What brings you here, Hiranya, my boy?" asked the king indulgently.
"I seek your permission, father."
"Permission for what, son?"
"I plan to go hunting in the forest, father."
"You have my permission and blessing," the king replied readily. "Take a
large contingent of hunters with you and …"
"Excuse me, my king, just a minute !" the court astrologer intervened.
"Yes, Acharya ?" the king asked, "What is the matter?"
"According to his horoscope, the alignment of the grahas is not favourable
to the prince."
"What does it matter if it is not favourable?" Hiranyagupta frowned and
shot back at the astrologer.
"It is not safe to go hunting ."
"Not safe for whom?" Hiranyagupta's lips curled in contempt. "For me or
the wild animals?"
King Yogananda laughed in appreciation of his son's wit, with Sakataala
immediately joining in his monarch's mirth. The king addressed the
astrologer. "Acharya, the prince is not leading a war party – surely we don't
need be so particular about planetary alignments!"
The astrologer held his ground. "I beg you to understand, my king – the
grahas’ influence …"
"Acharya !" shouted Hiranyagupta, "The planets, and their meaningless
impact, apply only to the weak and those who lack self-esteem!"
"But , my prince …" the astrologer remonstrated.
"I shall return safely from my hunting expedition and prove that your
irrational fear lacks all logic – it is a mere farce!" Hirayagupta turned
abruptly away from the astrologer and addressed his father: "Father …"
"Happy hunting, my boy!" the king smiled in blessing.
On Hiranyagupta's exit, the king smiled at the astrologer and said
conciliatorily: "Acharya, whenever you cast my son's horoscope, remember
to factor in his self-esteem!"
However, the astrologer did not share the king's levity. His face was grave
as he said, "Excuse me, my lord – it is the planets' malignant influence
which is responsible for the prince's obstinacy and overweening self-
esteem. I reiterate that this is not an auspicious time for the prince to go
hunting."
Prince Hiranyagupta led his hunting party deep into the dense forest.
Exhilarated by the cries of the wild animals, he spurred his horse on, eyes
darting hither and thither in eager search of lions and tigers. Lured on by the
distant roar of the animals, he plunged deeper and deeper into the forest,
gradually leaving behind his band of soldiers, who were unable to keep
pace with the prince's blistering speed. Hiranyagupta's reckless dash soon
found him lost in the wilderness, without any visible track to follow.
Strangely, in spite of the persistent calls which he heard, not a single animal
was in sight. Hiranyagupta's horse continued its breakneck gallop, defying
his efforts to rein it back.
The midday sun reached its zenith, scorching them with its fierce rays.
Gradually, the horse slowed to a canter and Hiranyagupta sensed that his
mount, like himself, was worn down by thirst and fatigue. He reined in the
horse and listened for sounds of his hunting party: they were not to be
heard.
The horse, unmindful of its rider's grip on the reins, walked purposefully
on. Hiranyagupta realized that the animal was instinctively moving towards
a source of water. Soon, the welcome call of aquatic birds greeted his ears
and a large lake loomed into view. Hiranyagupta dismounted and let his
horse make its weary way to the shore, where the thirsty animal eagerly
lapped at the cool water. The prince looked up at the sun's position, which
confirmed that he was lost and alone in the forest.
Suddenly, the sound of horse's hooves attracted his attention. He turned
quickly to see his mount galloping away from him. Hiranyagupta whistled
to summon his horse. However, the usually obedient animal ignored his call
and plunged headlong into the wilderness.
Hiranyagupta's eyes widened in horror and a spasm of fear convulsed his
body as he saw the reason for his horse's impetuous dash into the forest: a
lion crouched low between two thorny shrubs, staring unblinkingly at the
prince with its hungry, yellow eyes. Roaring once, as if in warning, the lion
walked implacably towards him, never averting its burning gaze.
Suddenly, it dawned on Hiranyagupta that he was unarmed – his bow and
arrows were on his runaway horse! All thoughts of thirst-quenching water
fled his mind and the prince turned tail and ran for his life. A quick
backward glance showed the lion in hot pursuit, and definitely gaining on
him!
Hiranyagupta burst out of the thicket: there before him, as though offering
him sanctuary, stood a tree. The prince darted to it and frantically scrambled
up the trunk.
Sitting on a branch, concealed by the thick foliage, he gave a sigh of relief
and cautiously peered down. To his astonishment, the lion squatted
determinedly on the ground beneath, staring up at him with its ravenous
eyes, its red tongue lolling menacingly.
An ominous rustle along the branch now drew his attention – a colossal
black shadow moved towards him, crushing the foliage. It was a huge black
bear! Hiranyagupta shivered uncontrollably, as panic gripped him, and
broke out in a cold sweat. The bear came to a stop near him and stared
unblinkingly into his terrified eyes.
Hiryanagupta, petrified by abject fear, looked alternatively at the lion,
which waited for him at the foot of the tree, and the bear, which was
crouched on the branch. His eyes protruded from his pale face …
"Don't be afraid. Like you, I have climbed the tree in order to escape from
the lion. Both of us are in the same dangerous predicament," the bear
assured him in flawless human speech.
Hiranyagupta could not believe his ears. "You … you … you can speak?!"
he stammered.
"When humans can behave like animals, tell me – why can't animals speak
like humans?" the bear retorted. "Our mutual fear of being torn apart by the
lion's claws has made us the dearest of friends. Don't worry, I will not harm
you!"
Prince Hiranyagupta heaved a great sigh of relief and introduced himself to
his new ursine friend. The bear moved closer to him, as if to emphasize
their solidarity. The lion, disappointed at missing its prey by a whisker,
crouched patiently at the foot of the tree, staring unblinkingly at the man
and beast perched companionably together on the branch above. The sun set
and darkness shrouded the forest. Hiranyagupta, tormented by the pangs of
thirst and hunger, slowly surrendered to his fatigue and nodded off.
The bear, aware that the prince was in danger of falling to the ground in his
sleep, said sympathetically, "Hiranya, you are exhausted. Place your head in
my lap and go to sleep – I will keep watch. I will wake you in the middle of
the night and then get some rest myself."
The exhausted prince took the bear up on its offer and placed his head in its
lap. The bear clutched him protectively with its forelegs, securing him from
falls. Within minutes, Hiranyagupta was fast asleep and snoring.
At the sound of the snores, the waiting lion came to its feet and addressed
the bear. "Oh king of the bears! You are indeed naïve! The man belongs to
the human race. He would not hesitate to hunt and kill us. There is no
denying the fact that men and animals are sworn enemies. Push him down
to me: I will sate the pangs of hunger by devouring him and go on my way,
leaving you alone. Come – throw the man down and save yourself!"
"I have given him my word to protect him as he sleeps. I will not go back
on my promise. Are you not aware that breaking a promise is a great sin?"
the bear declared staunchly.
The disappointed lion gave up its vigil and stalked away into the forest,
leaving the man and the bear on the tree.
At midnight, the bear roused the prince and said, "My friend, it is your turn
to keep watch – be very careful. The lion has gone into the thicket: but, on
no account must you climb down."
With this warning, the bear in turn placed its head in the prince's lap and
sank into a deep slumber. The hours passed slowly. Hearing the soft pad of
paws below, Hiranyagupta peered down. The lion had returned – it gazed
back at him unblinkingly.
"Oh, prince, I will spare your life if you accept my only condition: you must
satisfy my hunger. Heed my advice: push the bear down to me. I will feast
on it and go my way, leaving you alone. You can depart safely in the
morning and make your own way home."
Hiranyagupta stared at the lion in astonishment. Like the bear, the lion was
also capable of speech!
"If you do not accede to my terms, I warn you that I will remain under this
tree for any number of days. I will not go until I have sated my appetite by
eating either you or the bear – the choice is yours!"
Hiranyagupta pondered awhile. Then, "Do you promise to leave me alone?
Will you keep your side of the bargain?"
"I am the king of the jungle!" the lion declared haughtily. "Kings never go
back on their words." The animal urged the prince: "Come on! The bear is
fast asleep – shove it off the branch at once!"
Hiranyagupta thought quickly. He rationalized: the bear was a creature of
the jungle; it would inevitably fall prey to the lion – if not today, then on
another day. It was fated to be eaten by the lion. Whereas, if he sacrificed
the bear to the lion, his own life would be saved. After all, survival was
man's most basic instinct!
Having made up his mind, Hiranyagupta squared his shoulders and gave the
peacefully sleeping bear a mighty push. However, the bear awoke into
instant alertness and saved itself by instinctively clinging to a branch.
Seated securely on the tree, the bear glared at Hiranyagupta in
overwhelming contempt. "You wretch! You have proved your inherent
viciousness of character. You have stooped so low as to betray a comrade to
save your own life. However, I will not throw you to the lion. I will inflict
punishment for your betrayal with a curse: may you become insane!"
The lion kept up its nocturnal vigil through the long hours. When dawn
broke, the disappointed animal gave up and went on its way. The bear
descended from the tree and disappeared into the jungle.
Hiranyagupta remained on the tree. As the bear's curse took effect, he tore
his clothes into tatters and jumped down from his perch. He wandered
aimlessly in the jungle, gesticulating wildly to himself.
After combing the forest in futile search of Hiranyagupta, the prince's
hunting party finally gave up and returned to Pataliputra in despair.
Days passed into weeks and weeks into months. King Yogananda persisted
in dispatching search parties into the forest and to neighboring countries.
Each one returned empty handed, unable to gather even a whisper of the
missing prince's whereabouts.
The grief-stricken king and queen finally gave up hope and confronted the
fact that their only son and heir was no longer alive. A pall of gloom
descended on the palace.
Then, one day, a madman, incapable of speech, sought entry into
Pataliputra. Fortuitously, one of the sentries at the gates recognized him to
be their long-lost crown prince. The soldiers quickly ushered him to the
royal palace. The king and queen were delighted to have their son back, but
heart-broken at his pitiable state.
King Yogananda ordered the court physicians to treat the prince urgently.
However, after long weeks of medical treatment, there was no perceptible
improvement in Hiranyagupta: he remained speechless and insane.
The disconsolate King Yogananda called a meeting with his minister,
Sakataala, the physician and the court astrologer.
"My king," the physician reported. "I have treated the prince for the past six
months. In addition to following my own diagnosis, I have also consulted
the learned royal physicians of neighboring countries and experimented
with the medicines prescribed by them – all to no effect! The powerful
medications I am using on the prince just disperse harmlessly like
asafoetida in the waters of the ocean ."
"You could have at least attempted to restore his faculty of speech ," King
Yogananda complained.
"My Lord," the doctor asserted, "I have tried every means at my disposal to
cure his speech impairment. At all waking hours, I have subjected the
prince to various techniques geared to make his speak." The physician was
apologetic. "In fact, begging your pardon, I have even stooped to the crude
method of burning him with a red hot poker – even then, he did not utter a
sound!"
"Incredible!" Sakataala exclaimed.
"Based on his reaction to my treatment, and my own experience, I am
forced to conclude that the prince suffers from irreversible, chronic speech
impairment. He is dumb, my Lord – not observing an oath of silence!"
King Yogananda sighed and bowed his head in despair. He turned to the
court astrologer.
"Acharya, have you consulted the prince's horoscope?"
"Yes, my king," the astrologer affirmed. "I have made an extended, in-depth
study of his horoscope and persisted in my calculations for weeks. At the
end of it, I must admit that I am unable to fathom the cause of the prince's
malady – nor am I able to predict its duration or course." The Acharya
could not resist adding, "If I may remind the king, on the fateful day, I
voiced my objection to the prince's hunting expedition …"
King Yogananda cut him off with a curt, "Anyone with access to an
almanac would be capable of making that prediction, Acharya – we do not
need a court astrologer to tell us that!"
"I will be frank, my king," the astrologer confessed, "My command over
astrology is not strong enough to deduce the reason for the prince's
condition."
"Acharya Vararuchi was adept at advising me on such matters," the king
reprimanded his astrologer. "The horoscope you examined is based on his
infallible calculations!"
The court astrologer folded his hands piously and turned his eyes to the sky.
"Acharya Vararuchi was an astrologer and astronomer past compare! He
was the ultimate authority in both those sciences! He was a matchless
scholar – in fact, I would say that he was the male personification of the
Goddess Saraswati herself! There can be no comparison between that
vidwaan and my humble self. It is our misfortune that he is dead!"
The king, controlling his temper with difficulty, snapped: "Very well,
Acharya , you may go!"
The astrologer rose and made his departure.
"What the astrologer said was absolutely true, Maharaj," Sakataala said.
"Acharya Vararuchi could gauge the past, present and future: if he were
now here with us, he could easily deduce the reason behind the prince's
unfortunate plight."
King Yogananda nodded in silence.
"He could have suggested the appropriate measures to cure the prince's
speech impairment and insanity."
"Vararuchi, with his knowledge of the past, present and future, has himself
vanished into the past, minister!" Yogananda sighed.
"With due respect, my lord," the minister said, "that was our own
transgression."
"Yes, yes," the king muttered, "I fully accept that it was my misguided
judgement!"
"Have you heard of Acharya Vararuchi?" Nirvikalpananda paused to ask his
disciples.
"We are familiar with his name but know little about him, master. Do tell us
more!"
"Very well," said Nirvikalpananda and continued. "Vararuchi, King
Vikramarka, Bhatti and Bhartrhari were cousins. They were born to one
father who married four women of different castes. Vararuchi was born to
the Brahmin wife and Vikramarka to the Kshatriya wife. Bhatti's mother
was a Vysya and Bhartrhari's a Sudra.
"Vararuchi became an expert in the scriptures: the knowledge of the Vedas,
Puranas, Grammar and Mathematics was at his fingertips. He was a past
master in astrology. Based on his calculations of the Navagrahas’ positions,
he could accurately predict the past, present and future. At that period, he
was the only eminent scholar who was proficient in both astrology and
astronomy.
"His proficiency in casting and reading horoscopes matched that of
Brhaspati, the preceptor of the gods. In addition to forecasting events based
on his study of an individual's horoscope, Vararuchi also possessed an
uncanny ability: based on the alignment of the Navagrahas at that particular
point of time, he could perceive and describe all the physical features of a
person. This extraordinary skill posed a threat to his very life. Vararuchi
was King Yogananda's court astrologer. The king held him in high esteem."
"Then why did the king order him to be killed, master?" Sadananda was
bursting with curiosity.
"One day, a renowned artist visited King Yogananda's court. The king
commissioned him to paint the queen's portrait. The king and queen were
delighted with the artist's work, which was a faithful replica of the queen.
One morning, in the the king and queen's absence, Vararuchi happened to
be in the chamber in which the painting was displayed. While examining it,
the astrologer realized that a small mole present on the queen's lower
abdomen was missing in the portrait. Thinking to correct the defect,
Vararuchi painted the mole on that particular spot and left.
"Later, to his shock, the king observed the mole, which had not been there
earlier. Discreet interrogation of the maids in the queen's apartments
revealed that the alteration was Acharya Vararuchi's handiwork.
"King Yogananda was outraged: how could Vararuchi be aware of this
small mole on an intimate part of the queen's anatomy, which could have
been observed only by himself and his wife? Had he been foolish in trusting
Vararuchi and granting him unrestricted access to the queen's apartments?
Was the astrologer a secret voyeur – had he spied on the queen's privacy on
one of his frequent visits?
"In King Yogananda's eyes, Vararuchi's transgression was an unpardonable
crime. The king summoned his minister, explained the details of the
astrologer's depravity and ordered Sakataala to behead Vararuchi. In reality,
Vararuchi had not seen the mole on the queen's abdomen: based on his
study of the planets' alignment at the time of her birth, he visualized, in his
mind's eye, that such a mole would be present at that spot."
Nirvikalpananda paused.
"What irony, master!" Chidananda exclaimed. "Vararuchi was killed by the
revelation of his own astrological insight!"
"But, master," Shivananda asked thoughtfully, "why did Acharya Vararuchi
not have the good sense and discretion to avoid exposing the intimate
details of the queen's anatomy to public view?"
"Minister Sakataala himself posed this question to Vararuchi before his
execution. The astrologer's simple reply was, ‘the grahas’ influence.'
Vararuchi explained that it was the malignant influence of the planets which
had instigated him to unnecessarily meddle with the queen's portrait. He
categorically declared that the Navagrahas were the basic catalysts of all
thought and action. Let's leave it at that and go on with our story."
Nirvikalpananda picked up the thread of Vararuchi's tale.
"How I regret impetuously imposing the death penalty on Vararuchi," King
Yogananda lamented to his minister.
"Your majesty: are you reproaching yourself?" Sakataala asked with an
enigmatic smile.
"Yes," asserted the king. "If Acharya Vararuchi were alive, he would have
discovered the reason for the prince's wretched condition." He
disconsolately placed his chin on his hand and sank into despair. "What is to
be done , everything is a matter of destiny, ordained by the will of God."
"If it pleases your majesty … shall I bring Acharya Vararuchi here?"
Sakataala asked.
"What?!" gasped the king. "Can you restore the beheaded Vararuchi to
life?!"
"Majesty," the minister explained carefully. "On that day, you let yourself
be carried away by your anger and humiliation. Ignoring a basic tenet of
wisdom – always think twice before acting, you pronounced your harsh
judgement on Vararuchi. Knowing Acharya Vararuchi well, I interrogated
him and accepted his explanation. On your behalf, I ventured to commute
his sentence: instead of beheading him, I have secretly imprisoned him in
an underground cell ."
"Do you mean … do you mean to tell me that Vararuchi lives?"
"Yes, my lord! If you pardon him, I will immediately bring the Acharya
here."
"Pardon? Sakataala, I am impatient to beg the Acharya’s pardon for my
hasty, foolish deed!" King Yogananda said excitedly. "Please bring him here
with all due respect."
"Acharya,’ the repentant king said, "please forgive me for my impetuous
judgment and bless me."
"May all you desire be yours!" blessed Vararuchi. He continued: "The
queen is akin to my own sister. Both physical and mental traits can be
perceived with the aid of astrological calculations, based on horoscopes and
the alignment of the grahas . This is what happened in the case of the
queen's portrait. Due to the inimical impact of the planets on me at that
particular time, I indiscreetly altered the painting: such an action was
unworthy of me. I was awarded due punishment. You were just an
instrument in the hands of fate!"
"Your words demonstrate your large-heartedness, Acharya!’ the king said.
"We are fortunate to have you with us again." He turned to his minister.
"The credit goes to the wise Sakataala."
‘Although I express my deep gratitude to our learned minister, I must
emphasize one point," Vararuchi smiled serenely. "When the king sentenced
me to death, the alignment of the planets did not support such an
eventuality. That is why our able minister was inspired to save my head!"
King Yogananda smiled wryly. "For you, everything is ordained by the
grahas’ alignment!"
"Certainly," the astrologer emphasized. "Mercy or otherwise, everything
depends on the planets' influence."
"Let me bring you up to date: Prince Hiranyagupta, our only heir, went
missing while on a hunting expedition. He returned after a long absence,
having mysteriously been struck dumb – to compound his sorry plight, he is
also insane." The king's voice was grief-stricken. "Acharya, I beg you:
please study our son's horoscope and suggest a remedy."
The queen quickly came to her feet. "I will fetch Hiranya's horoscope at
once, Acharya.’
"That will not be necessary, my queen," Vararuchi smiled reassuringly. ‘All
the three royal horoscopes are indelibly etched in my mind. Just give me a
moment …"
A tense silence, pregnant with expectation, fell on the chamber. Vararuchi
narrowed his eyes in concentration – his nimble fingers twitched in rapid
count.
The astrologer opened his eyes and looked at his three attentive listeners.
"Chandra, standing in an adversarial position, has his malignant face turned
towards our prince. Chandra graha’s adverse influence is wreaking havoc
on Hiranyagupta's mind: this is the reason for his madness."
King Yogananda and his queen exchanged anxious looks.
Vararuchi continued: "A forest creature's curse has further reinforced
Chandra's unfavourable impact."
"Forest creature? What could that be, Acharya ?" Yogananda frowned.
"In line with the prince's horoscope, it is an animal covered with thick,
black hair."
"Your description suggests a bear, Acharya,” Sakataala said thoughtfully.
"Yes," Vararuchi agreed. "My astrological insight also perceives a bear."
"But, this is ridiculous!" the king spluttered. "Incredible! How can a dumb
animal pronounce a curse!?"
"Countless incredible phenomenon are part of this vast creation, my king,"
Vararuchi said sanguinely. "There can be no room for error in my
calculations. Once he has recovered, the prince himself will validate my
theory."
"Acharya, tell us the cure for my son's madness," Yogananda asked.
"There is but one cure: we must change Chandra's influence from the
adversarial to the favourable. This can be accomplished by paying homage
to Chandra graha.”
"Acharya , I have a doubt …" King Yoganada said hesitantly.
"Yes, Maharaj?”
"Earlier, you could perceive the mole on the queen's body based on the
grahas’ orbits. Now, you have deduced the cause of the prince's malady on
the same basis. Please tell me, how is this possible?"
"In addition to the accurate position of the Navagrahas and their orbits,
impeccable mathematical computation, instinctive perception and unbiased
logic are essential. The wondrous human brain is capable of storing and
processing vast amounts of information. The three factors I mentioned form
the foundation of the knowledge of the past, present and future – the
scriptures term such learning Thirkaalajantha ."
"Very interesting," said the king in admiration. "Now, please advise us as to
how we can modify Chandra graha 's malignant influence."
"Certainly, Maharaj," said Vararuchi. "I will give my instructions to our
royal purohit regarding the appropriate homams. He will oversee the rituals
to be performed by you and the queen. Once the prescribed rites have been
completed, the prince will be his normal self."
Nirvikalpananda smiled at his disciples, who gazed at him in rapt attention.
"Following Acharya Vararuchi's counsel, King Yogananda worshipped
Chandra graha . The power of the rites, combined with the parents'
unblemished affection, worked wonders. Prince Hiranyagupta was cured of
both the ailments which had plagued him for months. Recovering his sanity
and his power of speech, the prince narrated the details of his harrowing
experience in the forest.
"King Yogananda and Minister Sakataala lavished praise on Acharya
Vararuchi for the keenness of his inner vision, based on his vast astrological
knowledge."
"Master," asked Sadananda, "are there other epic characters who were
affected by Chandra graha 's malignant influence?"
"There would have certainly been innumerable such persons, Sadananda,"
Nirvikalpananda said. "Expert astrologers interpret the daily occurrences in
the lives of people in the light of the Navagrahas’ influence. In order to
enhance our understanding of this, we studied Chandra's powerful
influence. Let us now consider the glory of Kuja, the third graha. "
The Glory of Kuja
“Dharanee garbha sambhutham Vidyut kaanthi Sama prabham!
Kumaaram Saktihastam tam Raahum Pranamaamyaham!!”
I offer my salutations to Mangala (Kuja) who is born from the womb of
the Earth, who is resplendent like lightning, who is (called) Kumara,
and who holds the weapon, Sakti, in his hand.
"A ccording to the scriptures, Kuja, the third of the grahas – he who was
born from a drop of Lord Shiva's sweat, exerts his power over warfare and
the acquisition of land. In acknowledgement of this, he is also known as
Yuddha kaaraka and Bhukaaraka in Sanskrit. Kuja has a particularly
significant influence on the unity and understanding between spouses in a
marital relationship."
"Master," said Shivananda, "do tell us the story of an individual who
acquired land under Kuja's benign influence."
‘At the outset," said Nirvikalpananda, "let me make it clear that there is no
specific mention of any individual who gained property through Kuja's
intercession. However, by analyzing particular events in a person's life, it is
possible to reach the logical conclusion that it was Kuja graha’s malign or
benign impact which dictated that particular course of events. This is what
we shall now do.
"Who was that person, master?" Chidananda asked eagerly.
"Not one person, but two!" Nirvikalpananda smiled. "Both these individuals
feature in our renowned epic, the Ramayana. One is the protagonist, while
the other is , what shall I say , a character who did not receive her fair due. I
refer to Lord Sri Rama and to Lakshmana's wife, Urmila. Some astrologers
hold that Sita was also influenced by Kuja ."
"It is rather surprising to hear that Kuja held sway over the lives of such
renowned personalities," Vimalananda wondered.
"There is nothing surprising about this, Vimalananda," Nirvikalpananda
said. "It is evident that these characters from the Ramayana faced untold
hardships due to Kuja's adverse influence. Let me make it clear to you once
again…
"The Telugu epic, Ranganatha Ramayana, claims that the unique position
of the seven grahas at that particular time influenced Rama's birth. After
all, this was no ordinary birth – it was the beginning of Sri Mahavishnu's
incarnation as Sri Rama! So, it can rightly be accepted that Sri Rama's birth
was determined and shaped by the position of the grahas.
"Again, we are acquainted with the fact that Sri Rama could kill Ravana
only after reciting the Aditya Hrdaya in praise of Surya, under Sage
Agastya's instructions. This …"
"Yes, master," Chidananda intervened. "You touched on this in your
discourse on Surya's glory."
"So, we are certain that Rama was under the influence of the grahas , both
at the time of his birth and at the end of the Lankan war. It is but a logical
extension to assume that the grahas’ benign and malignant effect persisted
through the intervening years of his life also. Every corporeal body is the
combination of the panchabhutas and is rightly called the panchabhutikam:
the five bhutas, or elements, being earth, water, fire, air and ether. This
combination holds good even for God's incarnation in human form.
Consequently, divine incarnations are also susceptible to the pangs of
hunger and thirst, and experience hardship and sorrow like any other human
being. Therefore, the Supreme God's incarnations are also subject to the
Navagrahas’ influence."
"Master, your explanation has given us new insight into the power of the
Navagrahas!” Chidananda marveled.
"Yes, we now understand that every living being, without exception, is
affected by the Navagrahas. Let us now analyze the lives of Rama, Sita and
Urmila in the light of this undisputed fact.
"Lakshmana opted to serve his brother and sister-in-law during their forest
exile. Urmila also offered to accompany them to the forest, but was turned
down by Lakshmana, who left her behind in Ayodhya. Like her husband,
the Ramayana too ignored Urmila! Urmila had to endure fourteen long
years of separation from her husband, until Lakshmana returned from his
voluntary exile and the Lankan war."
"Isn't it said that Urmila remained in a deep slumber during that fourteen
year period, master?" Sadananda asked.
"Yes," Nirvikalpananda said, "Urmiladevi Nidra – the Sleep of Urmila
Devi, is a popular Telegu song. However, we do not know for certain that
Urmila slept throughout her enforced solitude. All we know is that she
suffered the agony of separation from her beloved husband.
"Urmila's painful separation from her husband was undoubtedly the result
of Kujagraha's unfavourable influence. Similarly, Rama and Sita also
experienced Kuja's malign effect. Sita was separated from her lord; in
Rama's case, this hardship was further compounded by the hazards of his
battle with the demonic Ravana."
"So, we can conclude that Kuja's unfavourable influence was the cause of
Urmila's long parting from her husband, Rama's separation from Sita and
his war with Ravana," Chidananda commented.
Nirvikalpananda chuckled. "Obviously, if Kuja's benign countenance was
turned towards Sri Rama and Sita, they would not have been separated from
each other and Rama would not have suffered the trial of the Lankan war.
The same goes for Urmila." He paused. ‘As we are all familiar with the
story of the Ramayana , I will not delve any further into it. I have confined
myself to pointing out the relevant incidents which highlight Kuja's power
and glory."
"Yes, master," Vimalananda agreed, "there is no need to go into details of
the Ramayana. Let us move on to the glory of Budha."
"Very well," said Nirvikalpananda, "let us hear of Budha's greatness."
The Glory of Budha
“Priyangu gulikaasyaamam roopena apratimam Budham!
Soumyam Soumyagunopetam tam Budham Pranamaamyaham!!”
I offer my salutations to Budha who is of dark blue complexion like the
Priyangu bud, who is wise, who is of incomparable beauty, who is
(called) Soumya and who is of benevolent quality.
"B udha is the graha who bestows the gifts of wisdom,
intelligence and skill. He is the master of lipi – the script. It is he who
grants mathematical knowledge and poetic aptitude. He exerts his influence
on other similar fields: but, let us confine our present narrative to his
bequest of intelligence and knowledge.
"Panini occupies pride of place among all the renowned intellectuals who
Budha blessed with uncommon intelligence and wisdom. It is Panini who
gave the people of Bharat the Paanineeyam , the comprehensive theory of
Sanskrit grammar. This monumental work of eight volumes is also known
as the Ashtaadhyaayi ."
"Master," asked Vimalananda, "Maharshi Patanjali has authored an
annotation of Panini's grammar, isn't it?"
"Yes, my boy," Nirvikalpananda said approvingly. "The Mahabhaashyam,
Patanjali's explanatory comments on the Paanineeyam, is the greatest
annotation of all time. Linguists hold the Paanineeyam to be one of a kind:
comprehensive, logical and widely acknowledged as unique. In fact, it is
not merely a treatise on grammar, but is accepted as a comprehensive and
authoritative science of language.
"Panini, the author of this peerless text, was slow-witted in his childhood.
In fact, he was so obtuse, that several teachers refused to accept him as a
student! Panini was born in Saalaatura, a village near the city of Pataliputra.
To his intense disappointment, on reaching the appropriate age, he was
turned down by all the village teachers he approached for instruction.
Panini reached Pataliputra in search of a master who would accept him as a
disciple. He heard of a renowned guru , Varshaacharya, who ran a gurukul
paatasaala in the city. This master was reputed to have the skill to turn even
an ignoramus into an intellectual. Panini went to Varshaacharya's ashram
and expressed his passion for knowledge, and his misfortune in being
unable to find a preceptor. Panini requested the guru to accept him as his
disciple and bestow an education on him. Varshaacharya, moved by Panini's
sad tale, empathized with his enthusiasm. Believing that Panini's intense
desire to acquire an education would ultimately make him a scholar,
Varshaacharya accepted him as his pupil and commenced his tutelage.
"However, to Varshaacharya's deep chagrin, it soon became evident that his
faith in Panini was misplaced. Panini clearly lacked both skills of
comprehension and memory, failing to reach even the standard of the
youngest novices. The seasons and years went by inexorably –but Panini
showed no improvement. Varshaacharya permitted him to remain at his
ashram for two reasons: Panini's unparalleled devotion to his guru and his
stubborn effort to learn. However, finally, Varshaacharya was forced to
concede that Panini's persistence would merely see him waste the remaining
period of his life in hopeless endeavor. The guru summoned Panini to a
private audience ."
Nirvikalpananda continued his narration.
Panini touched his master's feet in respect and stood before him with folded
hands. Varshaacharya gazed intently at his pupil's face. "Panini, an
education is indeed valuable. However, time is even more valuable! All
human beings have a limited lifespan. I have come to a regretful
conclusion: no matter how hard you try, an education is beyond your
intellectual reach. You too should have grasped this truth by this time. You
are patently unable to learn anything – you are merely wasting your
valuable time here."
"Master, I am indifferent to the passage of time: I need the education!"
Panini insisted respectfully.
Varshaacharya's voice was tinged with pity: "I am aware of that, Panini.
But, a life should not be frittered away on hopeless endeavor. Every man
must strive to achieve greatness with or without an education. Go into the
world; take up a profession and live a fruitful life."
"Master …" Panini's voice was choked with grief.
"Panini, you are an object of ridicule to disciples who are much younger
than you. My own reputation is at stake, as I am unable to make you a
scholar. You must undertake tasks which match your capabilities and lead a
fruitful life. As of tomorrow, you are no longer a part of this ashram!"
Varshaacharya pronounced his categorical decision and left the room.
Panini's tear-filled eyes followed his master's exit.
That night, Varshaacharya's wife said, "Swami , I heard that you have asked
Panini to leave the ashram . He loves and respects us more than a son
could. Can you not change your decision?"
"It appears that Lord Brahma has decreed that Panini is to end his life
without acquiring an education. He simply does not possess the intellectual
capacity to comprehend and memorize lessons. I am
constantly in a rage: either castigating Panini for his inability to learn
anything, despite my continuous tutelage, or castigating his fellow-
disciples for mocking him! This is certainly not a desirable state of affairs."
Varshaacharya continued firmly: "Tomorrow morning, serve Panini a meal,
give him some money for his travelling expenses and send him on his way."
The next morning, as Varshaacharya instructed his disciples, Panini
approached him with leaden feet and a heavy heart. He prostrated himself
before his guru for the last time.
Varshaacharya blessed him: "My boy, don't worry. One's first priority is to
nourish the body – the body is the only instrument through which a man can
achieve anything. Discard your obsession for an education and live
happily!"
Bidding his fellow disciples a tearful farewell, Panini made his way to the
inner rooms of the hermitage to take leave of his master's wife.
Panini's tears gushed over her feet, as he prostrated himself before his
gurupatni. She lifted him up tenderly and gazed into his eyes. She lovingly
wiped away his tears, ignoring her own and consoled him: "My dear Panini,
do not misinterpret your master's decision. It is just that you are incapable
of studying – and my husband is incapable of teaching you."
"Mother," asked Panini, controlling his grief with difficulty, "if a great
teacher like Varshaacharya himself cannot bestow the blessing of learning
on me, who can?"
The master's wife smiled and said, "Panini, there is indeed a teacher who is
greater than your guru, Varshaacharya! He is the Guru of all gurus!"
"Mother?!"
"Yes, Panini, there is a universal guru who authored the four Vedas , the six
Angaas , the scriptures and the Puranas . He is none other than Lord Shiva!
Go to the Himalayas and propitiate him with your penance. Beseech him to
grant you the boon of learning."
"Mother," Panini said in a tremulous voice, "do you really advise this?"
"Go, Panini," his master's wife said persuasively. "I assure you that you will
secure Lord Shiva's blessings. Chant the sacred Panchaakshari mantra
devoutly, immersing yourself in dedicated penance."
Panini dried his eyes and touched his master's wife's feet in respect saying,
"Mother, I will return after gaining the wealth of education!"
"May victory be yours!" his master's wife blessed him with the touch of her
palm on his bowed head.
Panini commenced his single-minded penance in the Himalayas. Forgoing
food and water, he immersed himself in the continuous, devout recitation of
the Panchaakshari mantra. He was oblivious to the snow which piled and
froze about him. The wheels of time rolled on. The frozen snow melted and
rivulets of water formed canals above his motionless body – Panini
remained indifferent to the changing seasons.
"Panini!" a sombre voice thundered across the skies.
Panini's eyelids trembled and opened slowly. The benign form of Lord
Shiva stood before him!
"Bhagavan! Lord Shiva! The Universal Guru !" Panini's voice trembled in
ecstasy. "Learning! Learning! I beseech you – bestow on me the boon of
learning!"
Lord Shiva said sympathetically, "Panini, an obstacle stands in the way of
your desire. Until it is removed, I cannot grant your boon."
"Bhagavan …"
"Let me tell you the nature of this obstacle," Lord Shiva said with a smile.
"It is Budha's malignant influence. Budha, the fourth of the Navagrahas, is
unfavorably disposed towards you. His adverse effect must first be
transformed into a positive attitude …"
"Bhagavan …" Panini attempted to interrupt.
Shiva silenced him with a raised hand. "I know what you are trying to say.
However, each god has his individual, well-defined authority and duty. I
will not change Budha's influence on you: it is you who must propitiate
Budha and secure his blessing. Once that has been accomplished, I will
grant you the boon of learning."
Panini prostrated himself at Lord Shiva's feet. ‘As you command, Bhagavan
!"
"May Budha be magnanimous to you!" Lord Shiva raised his hand in
blessing and vanished.
Without losing any further time in obeying Lord Shiva's command, Panini
commenced his worship in propitiation of Budha. His single-minded,
arduous penance reached the heights of intensity – then, Budha appeared
before him. Panini, shedding tears of supplication, beseeched Budha to
bless him with his magnanimous countenance.
Budha said gently, "Panini, my unfavourable influence was the consequence
of your deeds in your previous life. Your penance has been fruitful. You
will master all the arts. Lord Shiva himself will be your guru !" "I am
blessed, Bhagavan !"
"May good fortune be yours! Pray to Lord Shiva!" Budha advised and
disappeared.
With renewed energy and confidence, Panini worshipped Lord Shiva.
Almost immediately, Lord Shiva appeared before him, suffused in the glow
of the setting sun.
"Bhagavan, I beg you to grant me learning," Panini asked respectfully.
Lord Shiva said, "Panini, concentrate on the sound of my damaruka .
Consign those sounds to your memory."
Lord Shiva's hand was a blur of movement as the sound of his damaruka
echoed across the calm dusk of the Himalayas. Interspersed with pregnant
pauses, the drum resonated fourteen times, producing fourteen different
types of sound. The anklets on Lord Shiva's feet chimed joyously in
melodious accompaniment, as he danced to the beat of the damaruka .
Lord Shiva ceased his Ananda Taandav and smiled at the awed Panini.
"Panini, you have heard the music of my damaruka and my anklets. The
anklets' notes constitute the meanings of the damaruka’s sounds."
Panini broke out in goosebumps. He prayed, "Bhagavan, the fourteen
divine sounds of the damaruka will comprise the ‘Fourteen Laws of
Maheswara,' which I will constitute into the Maaheswara Sutras. Grant me
your permission for this."
"So be it!" Lord Shiva serenely blessed Panini's endeavor.
"Bhagavan, I will formulate the science of grammar on the foundation of
the Fourteen Laws of the Maaheswara Sutras ." Panini's voice throbbed
with eager excitement.
"Bravo! Just as health is essential to a body, grammar is essential to a
language. I hereby bestow the title Panineeyam on the grammatical treatise
to be written by you!"
"I am indeed blessed, Bhagavan ! In honour of your eight divine forms, I
will design my grammatical work in eight volumes."
"Your wishes will be fulfilled!" Lord Shiva raised his hand in blessing. "In
future, you will be an integral part of my divine court."
Nirvikalpananda addressed his disciples: "Panini went on to write his
treatise on grammar in eight volumes, based on the fourteen laws of the
Maaheswara Sutras , also known as the Pratyaahaara Sutras – granted by
Lord Shiva through the sounds of his damaruka. Based on its eight- volume
format, the Panineeyam is renowned as the Ashtaadhyaayi – a work in eight
chapters. Panini has established approximately four thousand grammatical
rules in these eight chapters. Maharshi Patanjali, the incarnation of
Aadisesha himself, has written his explication of the Panineeyam under the
title, Mahabhaashyam – the Great Annotation.
"Varshaacharya and his wife rejoiced wholeheartedly at Panini's triumphant
return with Lord Shiva's boons. Panini explained how Budha's blessings
constituted the gateway to Lord Shiva's grace. In the course of time, the
great Panini became a member of Lord Shiva's assembly in Kailash, along
with Bhrngi, Bhrngiriti and Nandi. They were later joined by Patanjali, he
of the human head and serpent body, who wrote the Great Annotation.
Panini and Patanjali became intimate friends. We have now heard of
Budha's glory through Panini's life," Nirvikalpananda concluded his
narration.
The GLory of Guru
“Devaanaam cha Rsheenaam cha Gurum Kaanchana sannibham!
Buddhimantam Trilokesam tam namaami Bhrhaspatim!!"
I offer my salutations to Brhaspati, who is the preceptor of the gods
and sages, who is resplendent like gold, who is the personification of
wisdom and who is the lord of the three worlds.
"G uru is the graha who bestows Vedic knowledge, devotion and
concentration, fame and honour, education, children and wealth. Let us hear
the story of an individual who obtained edifying knowledge, fame and
wealth by propitiating Guru …"
"Master," interrupted Sadananda in uncontrollable eagerness, "who was this
fortunate person who received these numerous blessings from Guru
graha?"
"Have you heard of the great Sanskrit poet, Bhaaravi?" Nirvikalpananda
asked.
"Master, we have heard of him and his literary work, Kiraataarjuneeyam,’
Shivananda replied.
“Kiraataarjuneeyam is one among the five great kaavyas in Sanskrit. The
other four are Raghuvamsam and Kumaarasambhavam written by
Kaalidasa, Naishadham by Sriharsha and Sisupaalavadham by Maagha.
Bhaaravi's Kiraataarjuneeyam is such a magnum opus that it also holds a
prominent place in the celebrated trilogy, Brhat Trayi – the Great Three."
"Master," asked Vimalananda, "what are the other two works in the Brhat
Trayi?"
"One is Sriharsha's Naishadha and the other is Maagha Mahaakavi's
Sisupaalavadham . Another point of significance is that, while the
renowned poet, Kaalidasa, is celebrated for his similes, Bhaaravi is reputed
for his artha gourava. Bhaaravi's poetic skills bloomed in his childhood
itself and emitted their fragrance when he was but a youth.
"The scholars of his period praised the young prodigy in his father's
presence saying, "Narayanaswami is blessed to have a son like Bhaaravi!"
"However, Narayanaswami himself would airily declare, "Bhaaravi is just a
child who does not know much about poetry .He lacks in-depth knowledge.
He does not deserve your praise. There is much for him to learn."
Narayanaswami persisted in treating Bhaaravi as an ignoramus.
"Bhaaravi, who relished the scholars' applause, was disgruntled by his
father's criticism, which increased in proportion to his son's popular
acclaim. Bhaaravi could no longer stomach his father demeaning him in
public. His young blood boiled in indignation. Deciding that a father who
insulted his own son was unfit to live, he plotted to murder his parent. One
night, armed with a heavy boulder, Bhaaravi climbed into the loft above his
father's bed and concealed himself there: his plan was to bash his father's
head with the rock and kill him in his sleep. His father came to the room
and prepared for bed. At that juncture, Bhaaravi's mother entered the
chamber…"
"I was very unhappy with your behavior this morning," Bhaaravi's
indignant mother complained to her husband.
"My behavior? What about it? Be more explicit!" Narayanaswami smiled
indulgently.
"The whole world is praising our Bhaaravi as a 'great poet.' Instead of
basking in the acclaim of the scholars, you are demeaning him in public by
saying, ‘He lacks in-depth knowledge … He does not deserve your praise.'
Do you realize how hard this is for Bhaaravi and how grief-stricken he is at
this public humiliation by his own father?"
Narayanaswami broke into peals of laughter at his wife's criticism. "Oh, is
this what bothers you? You are very naive – remember, applause is
intoxicating. If this intoxication goes to Bhaaravi's head, his intellectual
development will come to a standstill and his ego will assume monstrous
dimensions. Bhaaravi will deviate from the path of wisdom. Our son must
continue to develop in order to achieve greatness. It is my fondest hope that
Bhaaravi will become a great poet: my son must shine as the brightest star
in the literary firmament! With this in mind, I consistently remove the
barriers of applause which could stunt his intellectual growth."
"Really?!"
"What other reason could I have? My heart exults in joyous pride when
people praise my Bhaaravi. But I keep a tight rein on my happiness in order
to promote my son's development. Bhaaravi is now merely a poet – he must
grow into a great poet! Bhaaravi is now just a scholar – he must mature into
a great scholar! Very soon, this will come to pass!"
"Swami , how large-hearted you are!"
"My ambition for my son has given me a large heart! He will overcome the
hazards of praise and applause and achieve excellence!"
"Swami , you do not know how happy your words make me!"
"It is evident, my dear," Narayanaswami smiled. "What could be more
obvious than the tears of joy which course down your cheek?!"
At that juncture, to his parent's astonishment, Bhaaravi jumped down from
the overhead loft. He fell at his father's feet and burst into sobs of
recrimination.
"Father, my poet's heart failed to understand your father's heart! My proud,
shameless heart could not comprehend your love. Misinterpreting your
criticism, I planned to murder you in your sleep with this boulder …"
"Bhaaravi!"
"Yes, father! Public acclaim has turned my head and pride has blinded my
eyes. Please forgive me!"
"Son, you have realized your mistake: your father will forgive you," said his
mother, wiping her own tears.
"No, mother," Bhaaravi cried emphatically. "Forgiveness alone is not
sufficient. Father must first punish me and only then pardon me." He turned
to his father. "Father, pronounce a fitting sentence on this cruel son who
plotted to murder his own father!"
"Swami!" Bhaaravi's mother exclaimed in consternation.
"Sins call for expiation, and misdeeds for punishment. That is the rule of
law! That is the call of justice! It is punishment which liberates an
individual from the guilt of sin." Narayanaswami said sombrely. "I must
impose some appropriate form of punishment on Bhaaravi."
‘As you wish!" Bhaaravi's mother murmured weakly.
"Bhaaravi, here is the punishment which befits your crime: you must live in
your father-in-law's house for six months. You will leave for his house
tomorrow, along with your wife," Narayanaswami concluded seriously.
Bhaaravi's mother heaved a sigh of relief: that did not seem too bad!
Bhaaravi prostrated himself at his father's feet in obedience and prepared
for his departure.
Bhaaravi's mother and father-in-law welcomed him warmly to their house.
They were overjoyed to see their daughter and son-in-law. However, that
joy and affection was short-lived – and vanished into thin air when they
heard that the couple was there on an extended, six month visit.
There was a gradual erosion in the hospitality and respect offered to
Bhaaravi in their house. Subtle slights and negligence became the order of
the day. Soon, his father-in-law's house became a living hell for Bhaaravi,
who was now subject to overt hostility and humiliation.
It dawned on Bhaaravi that his father's punishment was worse than a prison
sentence. He was awed by his father's discernment in condemning him to
this miserable experience. He confronted the naked truth: a father- in-law's
house is heaven for a short sojourn, but hell when extended! Indeed, his
father had punished him in a truly befitting manner!
One day, Bhaaravi's father-in-law summoned him and said, "Look here, my
boy: it is accepted wisdom that work is an integral characteristic of a man.
This implies that anyone who is born a man must take up some profession
and work in order to earn his keep. Eating one's fill, and sitting idly
digesting the meal, is not the hallmark of a man – nor should it be!"
"Father!" exclaimed the distressed Bhaaravi.
"Do my words anger you? Surely, you have come here forsaking your anger
and self-respect, right? It is high time you worked to earn the food you eat
and the comfort you happily take for granted!"
"Father … " Bhaaravi's wife attempted to silence her father.
"What?" he asked sarcastically, "Do you think your husband is too high and
mighty to work? Perhaps you think he should take his ease lolling on the
swing all day?"
"Nothing of that kind, father … it is just that he is unaccustomed to hard
labour … "
Bhaaravi's mother-in-law jumped into the fray. "He is unaccustomed to hard
work?! Very well, let him learn – even buffaloes can be taught to work: why
can't a man?" She glared at her daughter and son-in-law.
"Mother!"
The mother ignored her protesting daughter and turned to her husband. "Do
one thing – terminate our cowherd's services and let our son-in-law take his
place!"
"Excellent idea!" Bhaaravi's father-in-law exulted. "The job does not
require hard labour. All he has to do is keep the cattle from straying." He
turned to command Bhaaravi: "Go! Take the cattle from the barn to the
grazing fields!"
"Father!" Bhaaravi's wife pleaded in a tremulous voice, shedding copious
tears.
Unmoved by her grief, her mother roared, "Your husband will be occupied
tending the cattle from dawn to dusk. He cannot return home for his meals.
You shall cook his food and take it to him in the fields."
Bhaaravi walked slowly to the barn with bowed head.
Bhaaravi, now a cow-herd, tended to the animals under the blistering sun,
taking care to see that the cows did not wander into the paddy fields.
Bringing him his food, his wife regarded her perspiring husband with tear-
filled eyes. Bhaaravi washed his hands and feet and came to sit under the
shade of a tree.
"Your father has given you a very harsh and cruel punishment indeed," she
said, as she placed a mouthful of food in Bhaaravi's hand.
"This is but a befitting expiation for my heinous sin. Father is very wise!
Condemning me to live in my father-in-law's house is like cauterizing a
wound with a medicine-smeared knife!" Bhaaravi smiled ruefully.
"You have even stopped writing poetry after coming here!"
"Yes, I seem to have sunk into depression. It is commonly held that poetry
emerges from pain. However, although I yearn to write about the agony of
my ordeal in my father-in-law's house, I am unable to summon the words! I
fear I have lost my poetic skills!" Bhaarvi heaved a deep sigh.
"Swami , once we leave my father's house at the end of your term of
punishment, we must find a way to live comfortably. You must earn the
money required for our needs."
Bhaaravi shook his head dejectedly. "Here, we are fated to lead a life devoid
of both self-respect and wealth."
"Swami, I heard that the reason for our sorry plight is the grahas’ malignant
influence. Can this be true?"
"Who said this?"
‘An astrologer, who is older than my father, said that your horoscope shows
Guru graha in an adversarial position – it is he who exerts an unfavourable
influence on your life."
Bhaaravi sighed. "Perhaps that is true. Maybe that is the reason for our
hardships and the deterioration in my literary proficiency."
"Guru's malignant influence is the reason?"
"Yes ."
"Swami , the astrologer also said that Guru graha can be appeased by
worshipping him through the prescribed rituals. Why don't you attempt to
propitiate Guru?"
"No , I will not ."
"Swami ! But, why not?"
"I will endure the just punishment meted out by my father!" Bhaaravi
declared stoically.
"Then, on your behalf, I will worship Guru graha . Will you grant me your
permission to do this?" Bhaaravi's wife asked hopefully.
"How can I object to you worshipping a god?" Bhaaravi asked.
This conversation took place on a Thursday, when the star, Anuradha, was
in the ascendant.
Bhaaravi's wife commenced her worship of Guru graha at an auspicious
time on that day. She recited the original Guru mantra one thousand and
eight times a day, repeating this procedure for nineteen consecutive days.
The days passed. Bhaaravis' wife faithfully continued her ritual worship for
the restoration of her husband's literary skills – through which he could earn
fame and wealth. On the nineteenth day, she went to the fields as usual,
with food for her husband who was tending the cattle. She found Bhaaravi
engrossed in deep thought – he was oblivious to her arrival.
"Swami," she caught his attention. "You are here in body, but far away in
mind! What is the matter?"
Bhaaravi gave a start and came back to earth. Wordlessly, he took her to the
shade of a tree and gestured to her to sit on the ground beside him. He
smiled beatifically at his wife and recited a sloka sparkling with
mesmerizing cadence and significance.
“Sahasaa vidadheeta nakriyaam avivekaha
Parama aapadaam padam
Vrnate hi vimrsyakaarinam gunalubdhaaha
Swayameva sampadaha!!"
"Swami … this sloka … " Bhaaravi's wife hesitated.
"Is my own creation!" Bhaaravi exclaimed joyously. "I do not know why –
but, since this morning, slokas have been rolling off my tongue in one
continuous flood of words!"
"Swami! My worship of Guru has been fruitful. The preceptor of the gods
has turned his munificent face towards you!" Bhaaravi's wife brimmed with
excitement. "Today is the nineteenth day of my prayers!"
"Om Gurave namaha!" Bhaaravi raised his folded hands in salutation
towards the sky. "Devi, this sloka is the inherent expression of my own life
experiences. Do you know its meaning? ‘One should not act impetuously!
Ignorance is the root of all misfortune! Wealth will come voluntarily to one
who acts after due, intelligent deliberation!'"
"Swami , your sloka encapsulates the truth of life!"
"This morning, I was inspired to write an epic titled Kiraataarjuneeyam . I
have completed two chapters in my mind and the sloka which you just
heard is from the second chapter."
"Guru has blessed us both," Bhaaravi's wife wiped away her tears of joy.
"You rightly said that we need money for our future. I will write this sloka
on a palm leaf for you to sell to some rich man." Bhaaravi declared.
"Yes, Swami !"
Nirvikalpananda looked at his entranced disciples.
"As Bhaaravi suggested, his wife sold that sloka to a wealthy businessman,
who appreciated its deep meaning and gave her a huge sum of money. Six
months passed and Bhaaravi returned home with his wife. Narayanaswami
joyously blessed Bhaaravi who had successfully endured the strange
punishment he had inflicted on him for his self-development. Bhaaravi's
mother hugged her son warmly.
"In due course, Bhaaravi completed his work on the Kiraataarjuneeyam.
Narayanaswami was exultant on reading his son's creation. He embraced his
son and poured his heart out in fulsome appreciation. He declared that he
was indeed proud to have a son like Bhaaravi. Scholars showered
encomiums on Bhaaravi and acclaimed his rise to greatness in an incredibly
short span of time. Bhaaravi insisited that he owed his knowledge, fame and
wealth to Guru graha’s favourable influence.
"So, we see how the worship of Guru graha resulted in the three-fold
benefit of knowledge, fame and wealth. Bhaaravi was enshrined as the Pole
Star in the literary firmament! His fame continues to shine even today!"
Nirvikalpananda concluded his account of Guru's glory.
The GLory of Sukra
“Himakunda mrnaalaabham Daityaanaam paramam Gurum!
Sarvasaastra pravaktaaram Bhaargavam pranamaamyaham!!"
I offer my salutations to Bhargava (Sukra) who shines like snow, like
the Kunda flower and lotus fiber, who is the great preceptor of the
demons and who is the expert orator of all the scriptures.
"S ukra is mainly the bestower of wealth, happiness, prosperity and fame.
Sukra also exerts some other influences but we need not go into those for
now. Let us hear the example of a renowned Puranic character who
regained all the wealth and prosperity he had earlier lost.
"I hope you remember the story of the Churning of the Ocean of Milk. We
heard of King Bali who collaborated with Indra and the other gods in
obtaining the amrita and was later disappointed at not receiving a share of
the nectar. After the distribution of the amrita, King Bali lost his life in the
ensuing war between the gods and the demons. Sukra brought him back to
life, using the Mrtasanjeevani and the grateful Bali organized a grand
felicitation in honour of Sukra's feat.
"Sukra, pleased with Bali's gesture, advised his disciple to perform the
Viswajit Yaaga –a sacrifice that would enable him to conquer the entire
universe. On the successful completion of the yajna, a cornucopia of gifts
emerged from the sacrificial fire: a chariot bearing golden vestments, horses
resembling Surya's handsome steeds, a lion pennant, a wondrous bow, two
quivers and a suit of armor. Agnideva, the god of fire, presented these
marvels to Bali. Prahalada, Bali's grandfather, gifted him with a garland of
lotuses which would never wither. Sukra, on his part, bestowed a pristine
white conch on his disciple. Emperor Bali, radiating happiness, offered his
salutations to his guru …"
Sukra exhorted Bali: "Bali, although it is true that we do not possess the
amrita , what does that matter? We have the priceless Mrtasanjeevani
mantra. You also have the wonderful chariot, bow, arrows and armor
required to wage war. Blow the white conch I have presented you and
declare war against the immortals!"
Bali demurred. "Gurudev , I am unsure of victory after the debacle on the
shore of the Ocean of Milk. Do you think this chariot, and the bow and
arrows, are sufficient to defeat the gods?"
"No, they are not enough!"
"Then, bestow your favourable influence on me and bless me with victory!"
"That too is not enough. I will also turn my malignant influence …"
"Gurudev ?!"
"Not on you and your asura army, my boy! Indra shall be the target of my
negative impact. My malignant influence on Mahendra will strengthen your
fighting arm a thousand times! Go to war, Bali! Victory will certainly be
yours this time!" Sukra locked eyes with Bali.
At Indra's court, the king of the devas sat in a trance of delight, savoring
Rambha and Urvasi's sensuous dance. The nymph's anklets beat a delightful
musical tattoo on the floor. Suddenly, two of Indra's spies rushed into the
court. Brhaspati noticed their pell-mell entrance and held up his hand,
signaling Rambha and Urvasi to end their dance. The melodious beat of the
anklets ceased abruptly.
"Victory to the king of the gods! Lord, Bali has surrounded Amaravati with
a huge army!"
"What?!" Indra exclaimed in utter disbelief.
"Yes, Lord!" the second spy declared in tremulous tones. "The rakshasa
army has encircled the fort. All the entrances are under enemy control!"
The blood-curdling sound of countless asura conches confirmed the spies'
ominous tidings. Indra dismissed his court and conferred anxiously with
Brhaspati.
"Gurudev , Bali, who has only recently tasted unequivocal defeat at our
hands, has again declared war. This timeframe strongly suggests that he is
in possession of some new power," Indra said.
Brhaspati gazed into the void for a moment and then turned to Indra.
"Mahendra, on Sukra's advice, Bali has performed the Viswajit Yaaga. As a
consequence, the rakshasa’s strength has increased thousandfold. Bhrgu's
descendants, who are brahmavaadins , have invested Bali with
extraordinary power. With the exception of Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva,
none can defeat him."
"Gurudev! "
"Yes, Indra. According to my calculations, the present time is not
favourable for you!"
"Then guide me as to my best course of action!"
"Indra, you are well aware that there can be only two end results in war: one
is victory and the other is a heroic death. Our present strength and weapons
overrule any chance of our victory. At the same time, the amrita will ensure
that there are no heroic deaths!" Brhaspati was in despair.
Indra heard him out helplessly. "Gurudev, your analysis of our predicament
only exacerbates my anxiety. Please tell me what to do now!"
"You are left with only one option: surrender the kingdom of Swarga to Bali
and leave!"
"Gurudev!?"
"Don't worry, Mahendra," Brhaspati consoled him. "This renunciation is not
irreversible – it is merely a temporary solution."
Indra heaved a sigh of resignation and bowed his head in defeat.
At Indra's command, the gods and apsaras left Swarga and sought asylum
in various other places. Indra, accompanied by his family, also reached a
safe haven. Sage Narada visited Kasyapa prajapati’s ashram with the sad
tidings that the gods under Indra had become refugees.
Aditi, the mother of the devas , was grief-stricken at the sorry plight of her
children. She lamented to her husband. "Swami, my children are very gentle
by nature. The evil rakshasas have robbed them of their wealth and
happiness and reduced them to a pitiful condition. Please restore Amravati
to Indra and the other devas. Punish the rakshasas and save my children!"
Kasyapa heaved a sigh of regret on hearing Aditi's grief-filled plea. He
gently wiped her tears and said, "Aditi, I do not have the strength to fulfill
your wish. No one in the three worlds possesses such power except the
Supreme Lord."
"The Supreme God, Swami ?"
"Yes, Sri Mahavishnu alone has such power!" Kasyapa smiled. "He is the
Supreme Power who can punish the asuras and rescue the suras: pray to
him, the Father of the Three Worlds!"
"Swami , will he bless me?"
"There is a special procedure prescribed for his worship. If you devoutly
conform to that format, the Supreme God will surely bless you."
Aditi attended keenly to her husband's instructions.
"The payobhakshan vrat is a vow of extraordinary significance. I will tell
you the procedure involved, the rules and regulations which govern it, and
the appropriate time and duration for its observation. I will impart to you
the special mantra of the payobhakshan vrat. Tomorrow is the day of
Padyami in the light half of the month of Phaalguna – this is an auspicious
day to commence the vow."
"It shall be as you command, Swami! I will begin my observation of the
vow tomorrow morning itself!" Aditi said excitedly.
"My good fortune be yours!" Kasyapa said. "Remember, you must
commence the vow with maha sankalp."
Heeding her husband's advice, Aditi commenced her observation of the
payobhakshan vrat the following day and adhered to it for twelve
consecutive days with the greatest devotion. On the last day, to her
delighted surprise, Lord Vishnu appeared before Aditi.
"Mother … Aditi!"
"Bhagavan, you have heard my call!" Aditi's voice trembled in ecstasy and
she shed tears of joy.
"How can I ignore the mother's call?!" Lord Vishnu replied smilingly.
"Bhagavan!” Aditi was speechless in awe.
"Mother, I know your heart's desire. I will restore the gods' glory by taking
birth as your son!"
"Oh, Bhagavan! I am fortunate indeed!" Aditi's astonished eyes brimmed
with happy tears.
"Mother," the Lord smiled tenderly. "I share your good fortune. I will bask
in the secure comfort of your womb, frolic in your lap and imbibe
nourishment from your milk."
Aditi trembled and broke out in goosebumps. "Bhagavan … Oh,
Bhagavan!”
"Serve your husband with your body, keeping my image firmly in your
mind. I will enter your womb like ghee into the sacred sacrificial fire!"
"I am blessed, Bhagavan!”
"You will bear a great son!" With this blessing, Vishnu vanished.
Aditi's vow was fulfilled. The Supreme God's boon took flesh and Aditi
joyfully carried her divine pregnancy. An extraordinary effulgence engulfed
her body and her natural beauty was amplified a thousand times.
Brahma recited a paean of praise to Lord Vishnu, the resident of the Ocean
of Milk, who now resided tranquilly in Aditi's womb, ready to assume his
incarnation. Sage Narada lost no time in carrying the tidings of Aditi's
pregnancy, and the reason behind it, to Indra and the other gods.
Brhaspati addressed Indra: "Mahendra, the deva’s hardships will soon end.
You must do your own part to regain your past glory."
"What must I do, gurudev ?"
"The main reason for the transformation of the kingdom of the gods into the
kingdom of the rakshasas is …"
Indra interrupted indignantly: "Emperor Bali!"
"Bali may be a contributing factor, but there is a deeper root cause for this
state of affairs."
"What is that, gurudev ?"
"Sukra's malignant influence on you!" Brhaspati directed a keen glance at
Indra. "Sukra's unfavourable impact holds firm sway over you. It is
essential that you gain his favour."
"Hmmm … show me the way."
"Meditate on Sukra, the sixth of the Navagrahas: worship him with staunch
devotion."
"Gurudev!” exclaimed the shocked Indra. "Sukra is the preceptor of the
rakshasas , our sworn enemies! He himself is our adversary! How can he
bless me? Impossible!"
"Indra, cast aside your doubts and pray to Sukra," Brhaspati reiterated
seriously. "Sukra will bless you!"
"Gurudev , tell me one thing: would you bless the rakshasa king, Bali, if he
attempted to propitiate you?"
"I certainly would! I have no choice: it is my ordained duty!" Brhaspati
smiled. "The Holy Trinity has invested us, the Navagrahas, with the
authority to bestow on each and every individual in the universe good and
bad influences, mercy and wrath. You can obtain the blessing of any god
only when you enjoy the Navagrahas’ favourable influence. Have faith in
me Indra – worship Sukra graha, the giver of wealth."
‘As you command, gurudev," Indra agreed obediently.
It was the month of Sraavan, in Abhijit Lagna, with the Sravanaa star in the
ascendant. In the second half of that Dwaadasi day, when Surya blazed in
the middle sky, and Chandra and the other grahas and stars stood in
auspicious positions, Aditi gave birth to a son.
The infant came forth with four hands – holding the conch, the discus, the
mace and the lotus. He was resplendent in tawny attire and wore crocodile-
shaped earrings. The crown on his head, the divine Kaustubha gem on his
neck, and the ornaments which adorned his body, wrapped him in an
extraordinary glow.
Aditi gazed in awe at her little baby and wondered how this miraculous
infant with four hands, divine weapons and ornaments could have remained
cocooned in her small womb. The joyous Kasyapa and Aditi sang a paean
of praise to Lord Vishnu who had deigned to be incarnated as their son. In
that instant, the divine form of Lord Vishnu gave place to the features of a
normal child. In another instant, the child metamorphosed into a dwarf at
the age appropriate to undergo the upanayana ceremony. Recovering from
her shock, Aditi gathered her newborn dwarf child to her breast and suckled
him tenderly.
Nirvikalpananda looked around smilingly at his disciples. "You must have
realized that this is the story of the Vamana avatar . Lord Vishnu assumed
the Vamana avatar in order to retrieve Indra's domain from King Bali.
"We are all familiar with the story of Vamana attending King Bali's yajna
and asking for three paces of land, Sukra attempting in vain to stop Bali
from consenting to this, Sukra assuming a miniature form in order to block
the spout of Bali's kamandalam, and Vamana piercing the spout with a twig
– resulting in Sukra losing an eye. Finally, Lord Vishnu obtained the
kingdom of Swarga as a donation from Bali and bestowed it on Indra."
Nirvikalpananda concluded his gist of the Vamana avatar .
"Master," asked Chidananda, "what about Sukra ?"
"I am coming to that, Chidananda," Nirvikalpananda said with a smile. "In
due course, Indra completed his worship of Sukra. The pleased asura-guru
turned his benign face towards Indra."
"Master, I have a doubt ," Vimalananda intervened respectfully. "Sukra's
malignant influence on Indra , Indra's propitiation of Sukra , Sukra blessing
Indra – this chain of events is unfamiliar. Did these events really take
place?"
Nirvikalpananda smiled indulgently and said: "Pay attention to my
explanation. One method of analysis is to gauge an event on the basis of its
cause. Another method is to gauge the cause, in retrospect, based on an
event. Both methods are equally logical and applicable. Let me give you an
example: suppose you sleep through an entire day and wake up after sunset.
You would not question whether the sun rose that morning while you slept.
Although you did not witness the sunrise, you are certain that the sun did
rise. That is the immutable truth!
"Similarly, when an individual's horoscope is subjected to astrological
analysis, it is possible to predict in advance that a particular graha is going
to have an adverse impact on that individual. Using the retrospective
method, if the horoscope is examined after the individual has endured
hardship, it is possible to pinpoint the particular graha responsible for his
suffering. We have used the second method to conclude that it was the
malignant influence of Sukra, the giver of wealth and glory, which was
responsible for Indra's misfortune.
‘Another noteworthy point is that Sukra is the preceptor of the asuras: this
makes him a natural enemy of the devas. It is perfectly reasonable to
conclude that he exerted an unfavourable influence on Indra, the king of the
devas. Do not forget that the Navagrahas are divine forms. As such, all
gods, demons and humans are equally susceptible to their mercy and wrath.
That is the greatness of the Navagrahas . Therefore, it is not surprising that
Sukra adversely impacted Indra, in order to facilitate his disciple, Bali's,
victory. Likewise, he later withdrew his malignant influence by accepting
Indra's worship and deigned to show his magnanimous face to the king of
the gods."
"Master, one more doubt …" said Shivananda.
Nirvikalpananda inclined his head in patient attention.
"As a consequence of Sukra's magnanimity towards Indra, Bali lost the
kingdom of Swarga. Does this not reflect badly on Sukra's position as the
preceptor of the asuras ?"
"No! In practical terms, Sukra attempted to be fair towards both Bali and
Indra. As the asura- guru, he attempted to dissuade Bali from making his
donation to Vamana. He blocked Bali's kamandalam and lost an eye for his
trouble. This makes it evident that he remained true to his obligations as the
preceptor of the rakshasas . At the same time, he blessed Indra in his role as
a Grahadeva ."
"Master, your analysis is founded on sound logic, as always!" Sadananda
exclaimed in admiration.
"When things are not clear, they should be subjected to logical analysis. I
will give you another example to enhance your understanding. A couple
gets married and in due course, they have a son. It is not decorous to openly
enquire whether their marriage has been consummated. Instead, we accept
that their son is the visible proof of that consummation. Similarly, we
conclude that Sukra's malignant influence was responsible for Indra's loss
of wealth and fame. This is a perfectly logical conclusion. Now, let us move
on to the glory of Sani graha !"
The GLory of Sanaischara
“Neelaanjana Samaabhaasam Raviputram Yamaagrajam!
Chaaya Maartaanda Sambhutam tam Namaami Sanaischaram!!"
I offer my salutations to Sanaischara who shines like dark blue
collyrium, who is the son of Ravi (Surya), who has Yama as his elder
brother and who is born of Chaaya and Maartaanda (Surya).
"T he mere mention of the name, 'Sani,' is enough to evoke instant
devotion laced with dread! Sanaischara is unique among the planets, in that
his malignant influence causes one-fold harm, while his benign influence is
doubly beneficial. His anger rouses our fear while his mercy gives us
courage and confidence. In fact, it is Sani who bestows upon living beings
the one thing they crave above all others: the gift of longevity. As the only
graha to grant longevity, Sanaischara is known as the Ayurdaaya Kaaraka
the bestower of long life.
"An individual who rouses Sani's wrath must navigate his life through a
jungle of thorns. On the other hand, if Sani is pleased with him, his life
becomes a pleasant journey through fragrant meadows. There is an episode
in King Dasaratha's life which categorically proves this. I will now narrate
this particular story to you. This was the period when King Dasaratha ruled
Bharat, with Ayodhya as his capital. One morning, the court astrologers
who routinely perused the almanac, and interpreted the movement of the
Navagrahas , announced the imminent approach of a great threat.
"The astrologers foretold that Sani was poised to enter the orbit of the star,
Rohini. This heralded the coming of a terrible drought which would persist
for twelve long years. They warned that there would be a dire scarcity of
food and water during this period – a dreadful famine would wipe out all
life on earth.
"The anxious Dasaratha consulted his mentor, Sage Vasishta, and begged
him to suggest a way to save the country from the ravages of the predicted
drought …
Sage Vasishta said, "Oh King! It would be meaningless to offer relief to
your subjects after the onset of the drought! Your bounden duty as a king is
to prevent the very occurrence of the impending calamity."
"Prevent the occurrence of famine?" King Dasaratha asked. "Acharya, do
you suggest that we conduct the Maha Varuna yajna?”
"The graha who is poised to enter Rohini's orbit is no ordinary planet – it is
Sanaischara himself! Mere sacrifices and rituals cannot divert him from his
course!"
"Then, kindly advise me as to the appropriate course of action." "There is
only one thing to be done," Vasishta said. "You must stop Sani graha from
entering Rohini's orbit!"
Dasaratha, astonished at Vasishta's bold suggestion, said: "This is a very
complicated issue. Let us discuss it with our ministers, gurudev.” Dasaratha
summoned his eight ministers – Drshti, Jayantha, Vijaya, Siddhartha,
Arthasaadhaka, Asoka, Mantrapaala and Sumantra and acquainted them
with the state of affairs and Vasishta's counsel.
"Stop Sani from entering Rohini's orbit … how is that possible? We need
Sage Vasishta's explicit advice," Minister Sumantra said.
"Let us attempt to propitiate Sani with homams and rituals," suggested
Minister Mantrapaala.
The other ministers nodded in agreement.
"According to the calculations of our court astrologers, Sani may have
already commenced his journey towards Rohini's orbit. If he is to be
stopped, immediate action is called for. There is no time to be lost with
rituals: and let me repeat my warning – such rituals would serve no
purpose. We must not forget that Sanaischara is a fierce graha !" Sage
Vasishta cautioned.
The ministers exchanged looks of consternation. Dasaratha turned to Sage
Vasishta with a worried frown.
"King Dasaratha, there is no time for further consultation and discussion.
Sani must be stopped in mid-course. That is the only solution!" Sage
Vasishta said urgently.
"Gurudev , you are the only person capable of achieving this great feat,"
Dasaratha appealed to his mentor.
Sage Vasishta smiled. "Have you forgotten the past, Dasaratha? At Indra's
request, you rode to heaven on your chariot and valiantly engaged the
demon, Sambarasura. Sambara assumed ten forms and showered arrows on
you from ten different directions. Unfazed, you drove your chariot at
lightning speed to simultaneously cover all the ten points of attack, and
killed the marauding demon. Awed by your valour and your inimitable
charioteering skills, Lord Brahma appeared before you. In
acknowledgement of your proficiency, he bestowed on you the name
'Dasaratha,' instead of your original name 'Nemi.' Now, board your trusty
chariot and rush to the vast reaches of the stars and planets!"
At this exhortation, Dasaratha looked intently at his mentor and said,
"Reaching the plane of stars and planets is easy enough, gurudev
stopping Sani is another matter altogether!"
Sage Vasishta held the king's gaze. "Meet Sanaischara face to face and
appeal to him for mercy. If he refuses to oblige, attack him!"
"Hear, hear!" the eight ministers chorused in approval.
Dasaratha, attired in cloth of gold, and adorned with golden ornaments,
wore his jewel-studded crown and mounted his aureate chariot, drawn by
magnificent white horses. He signaled to his steeds and his trusty chariot
dashed forward into the vastness of space.
Rivalling the speed of the wind, Dasaratha covered one and a quarter lakh
yojanas. On reaching Rohini's orbit, Dasaratha halted his chariot in Sani
graha’s anticipated path and waited expectantly.
Seated in his iron chariot, drawn by ten multi-hued horses, Sani sped
towards Rohini. Suddenly confronted by Dasaratha's golden equipage, Sani
braked to an abrupt halt. Frowning darkly at the king, he bellowed:
"Dasaratha, do you realize that you are obstructing my passage? Reverse
your chariot and move aside!"
"Salutations to the holy feet of Sanaischara!" Dasaratha said, respectfully
raising his folded hands to his forehead.
"First move your chariot out of my way – we will then see about your
salutations!" Sani thundered.
"Bhagavan, I have deliberately halted my chariot in your path: not to make
way for you but to stop you in your tracks!" Dasaratha said, a calm smile on
his face.
The furious Sani roared, "Dasaratha, if my passage is impeded, chaos will
result!"
"And, if I do not block your present course, you will enter Rohini's orbit.
This will cause a dreadful, twelve-year long famine on earth. I beseech you
to reverse your course and retreat!" Dasaratha pleaded.
Sani's sardonic laughter resonated through the vast reaches of space like a
thunder-clap.
"Retreat!? Sanaischara never retreats! Be gone!"
Sani urged his horses onwards. Without a moment's hesitation, Dasaratha
too drove his chariot forward. Stopping a short distance away, Dasaratha
folded his hands in supplication.
"Bhagavan, your intended path will unleash a wave of destruction on life on
earth. On behalf of all humankind, I beseech you: do not enter Rohini's
orbit."
"Impossible!" Sani roared furiously. "I, the son of Surya Bhagavan, will not
yield to entreaties or prayers!"
"Then, I have only one option: I have to stop you with my valour!"
‘A mere mortal attempting to stop Sanaischara!" Sani's mocking laughter
echoed across the skies. "Go ahead and try!"
Dasaratha smiled and bowed his head. "How can I turn down the wish of
one of the Navagrahas ?"
The king took up his bow in his left hand, tautened the bowstring and
released it. The mighty echo of the 'tamkaar reverberated through all the
eight directions. Sani's horses, spooked by the thunderous twang of the
bowstring, neighed in terror and backed nervously. The sound echoed in
Sani's ears.
Dasaratha took an arrow from his quiver and notched it to his bow. He
locked eyes with Sani and declared in a loud, clear voice: "Sanaischara, in
order to discharge my obligation as a king, and protect my subjects on
earth, I must attack you with my arrow of destruction. Save yourself – if
you can!"
In one fluid movement, Dasaratha raised and drew his bow, taking aim prior
to releasing the arrow.
Sani, astounded by the king's temerity and courage, shouted: "Dasaratha!
Stop!"
Dasaratha froze in his aggressive stance.
"Lower your bow, Dasaratha," Sani said gently.
Dasaratha looked at him in surprised interrogation.
A smile lit up Sanaischara's face. "Put down your bow and quiver and come
here!" he commanded.
Reassured by Sani's serene demeanor, Dasaratha placed his bow on his seat,
dismounted from the chariot and approached Sani on foot.
Sani looked intently at the king. "Dasaratha, I am the son of Bhagavan
Surya and you are a descendent of Surya's lineage! It was to test your
personal courage and your commitment to your role as the protector of your
subjects that I refused to heed your prayer."
"Bhagavan …"
"I am pleased with your valour. Ask for any boon you desire."
Dasaratha humbly extended his cupped palms towards Sani. "Bhagavan, I
beg you to grant me a boon which will ensure the wellbeing of the three
worlds. From today, do not enter Rohini's orbit. As long as this universe
exists, you must not cross Rohini's circuit. This is the boon I ask from you."
"Your concern for the welfare of the three worlds is commendable! I
willingly grant your boon. I give you my word that I will never cross
Rohini's trajectory!"
"I am blessed, Bhagavan! Indeed, I am blessed!" Dasaratha exclaimed with
respectfully folded hands. His grateful eyes transfixed on Sani's benign
face, Dasaratha broke into an extemporaneous hymn in praise of the graha .
Sanaischara listened benignly to the hymn and raised his hand in
benediction. "Dasaratha, I bestow the title Dasa vidha stotra to the hymn
you have composed. All those who recite this hymn with true devotion will
receive my blessings and will be immune to the adverse effects of the
grahas!"
Dasaratha gazed at Sani through tears of joy. Sani smiled at the king and
reversed his chariot. Dasaratha stood as still as a statue, his eyes following
the retreating Sani until the iron chariot was lost in the mist of the distance
Nirvikalpananda paused and looked questioningly at his disciples.
"Master, we expected you to narrate the experience of an individual who
bore the brunt of Sani's wrath and secured his blessings by worshipping him
," Sadananda said.
Nirvikalpananda chuckled. "We have already heard the stories of
individuals who suffered the adverse impact of the grahas and gained their
favour by duly performing the ordained rituals. Now, through Dasaratha's
tale, we have learnt that it is possible to pre-empt the Navagrahas’
unfavourable influence by paying heed to astrological predictions and
worshipping the planets. I chose this episode in King Dasaratha's life to
impress this on you."
"Yes, master," said Vimalananda. "It is now clear to us that man can save
himself from the hardships which result from the grahas’ malignant effect."
"Very well, let us proceed to the story of the eight graha, Rahu,"
Nirvikalpananda said.
The Glory of Rahu
“Ardhakaayam Mahaaveeram Chandra Aditya Vimardanam!
Simhikaagarbha sambhootam tam Raahum Pranamaamyaham!!”
I offer my salutations to Rahu who is half-bodied, who is distinguished
and valiant, who is the oppressor of Chandra and Aditya and who is
born from Simhika's womb
"T he scriptures say that the malignant influence of Rahu, the I eight
graha, results in eight kinds of hardship. Under Rahu's adverse impact, an
individual is exiled from his native land and compelled to live in the burial
ground."
"Master, the term, 'eight hardships,' is commonly used. What exactly are
these eight hardships?" Vimalananda asked curiously.
"The scriptures categorically list the eight hardships, which are more
accurately eight curses on mankind. The eight hardships a man should
never have to face are – living in exile, separation from his wife, visits from
relatives when in poverty, the eating of left-overs, the merger of his rivals,
dependence on others for food, humiliation and destitution."
"Master, it is widely known that King Harischandra suffered the eight
hardships, went into exile and lived in a burial ground. Is it right to
conclude that Rahu's malignant influence was the reason for his sorry
plight?" asked Sadananda.
"Undoubtedly! Astrologers are of the same view," Nirvikalpananda replied.
"In fact, I intend to narrate Harischandra's story as an example of the
consequence of Rahu's influence.
"When under the unfavourable influence of the grahas, a man's thoughts
and deeds will gravitate towards the wrong path. During this adverse
period, the concerned individual will blindly ignore the cautionary signs of
bad omens and planetary alignments. According to the Markandeya
Purana, Harischandra set out on a hunting expedition, although his
kingdom was well provided and secure, and did not face any threat from
wild animals.
"It is essential that a king select an auspicious day and time to wage war, or
to go on a hunting expedition. This is the traditionally accepted practice.
However, King Harischandra's overweening self-confidence and egoism
made him deliberately ignore this tradition and surrender to his weakness
for hunting. In fact, it was not merely a weakness … it was an addiction!"
"Master," asked Sadananda doubtfully, "can hunting become an addiction?"
"Certainly! Hunting is an addiction. Our wise forefathers included hunting
in the list of Sapta Vyasanas – the Seven Addictions.
"Harischandra's addiction to hunting made him a victim of Sage
Viswamitra's wrath and enmity. As a consequence of his financial
indebtedness to Viswamitra, the pitiable Harischandra was forced to
surrender his entire empire to the sage – except for the substantial lands
previously donated to the Brahmins and temples. He was compelled to
leave his native land and go into exile. He had to sell his wife and son. As if
all this hardship was not enough, he had to sell himself to the keeper of a
crematorium and undertake the task of burning corpses.
"We are all acquainted with King Harischandra's various hardships and his
miserable life burning corpses as a crematorium keeper. I will not elaborate
on these familiar episodes. Suffice it to understand that it was Rahu's
malignant influence which was responsible for Harischandra's suffering."
"Master, Harischandra's hardships also resulted in his earning the
meritorious title, 'Satya Harischandra'," remarked Chidananda.
"In addition to that unique recognition, he was blessed by Brahma, Indra
and the other gods," added Shivananda.
"Yes, King Harischandra was fortunate to secure the blessings of the gods,
who acclaimed his integrity. He earned the title, Satya Harischandra and his
name became a synonym for truth. It is fair to assume that Rahu's
favourable influence effected these fortunate developments in his life,"
Nirvikalpananda said.
"In short, we can conclude that Satya Harischandra's life exemplifies both
Rahu's positive and negative impact," remarked Vimalananda.
Nirvikalpananda considered at his disciples. "You may wonder why King
Harischandra did not attempt to ward off his sufferings by propitiating Rahu
and securing his grace. Right?"
"Yes, master," agreed Vimalananda. "And one more doubt: we may concede
that King Harischandra himself may not have been aware of Rahu's
malignant influence. However, the wise Sage Vasishta was his preceptor.
Surely the sage could have advised Harischandra to worship Rahu and gain
his mercy. Why did this not happen?"
"Excellent question!" Nirvikalpananda said approvingly. "Harischandra was
born into the great lineage of Ikshvaaku – the solar dynasty, descended from
Bhagavan Surya himself. It so happened that King Harischandra
unilaterally took the decision to donate his kingdom to Sage Viswamitra. A
king must keep his given word: in order to uphold this principle,
Harischandra had to surrender his empire to Sage Viswamitra. Again, after
forfeiting everything and becoming a destitute, he could not shirk his moral
responsibility to clear his debt: this entailed his miserable stint in the
crematorium. Sage Vasishta was aware of the moral principles involved.
Therefore, he could not in good conscience advise the king to evade his
hardships by propitiating Rahu.
‘Again, Sage Vasishta was a renowned seer who could envision the past,
present and future. He was confident that Harischandra would keep his
word, uphold his integrity and remain a synonym for truth through all
eternity as Satya Harischandra."
"Master, your explanation is enlightening!" Chidananda exclaimed.
"Yes, master," agreed Vimalananda. "We are now able to grasp the moral
complexities involved."
"Good," the master said. "You have heard of Rahu's glory. Let us now take
up Ketu's fame."
"Yes, master," said Shivananda enthusiastically, "we are sure to enjoy it!"
The Glory of Ketu
“Palaasapushpa sankaasam taarakaagraha mastakam!
Roudram roudraatmakam ghoram tam Ketum pranamaamyaham!!"
I offer my salutations to Ketu who shines like the palaasa flower, who
is foremost among the stars and planets, who is Roudra, whose form is
fierce and horrible.
S adananda asked: "Master, what does 'Palaasapushpa' mean?"
"It is Butea frondosa in botanical terms, and is commonly known as the
Flame of the Forest.. Ketu's complexion is as red as the moduga blossom.
As in the case of the other grahas, Ketu, the ninth of the Navagrahas, has
his own unique characteristics and impact. The most extraordinary of his
influences is the one which grants moksha – liberation from the cycle of
birth and death. Ketu's favourable influence is essential in order to attain
moksha . Let us now hear the story of a Puranic character who was unable
to attain liberation, no matter how hard he tried, as he lacked Ketu's grace."
Nirvikalpananda smiled benignly at his four disciples.
Vimalananda, Chidananda, Sadananda and Shivananda looked up at him in
eager anticipation.
"We just heard the story of Harischandra. Do any of you know who his
father was? … He was Satyavrata Maharaj, popularly known as Trisanku."
"Master, how did Satyavrata Maharaj obtain the name, Trisanku?" asked
Vimalananda curiously.
"Satyavrata became Trisanku as the result of Sage Vasishta's curse …
Trisanku means one who has committed three sins."
"What were those three sins, master?" Sadananda asked.
"When Satyavrata was young, he abducted a bride from the marriage
platform when she was about to be wed. That was one sin.
"Furious at his son's misdeed, his father, King Trayyaaruna, punished
Satyavrata by expelling him from the kingdom. Earning his father's wrath
was Satyavrata's second sin.
"Satyavrata then sank into a mean, lowly life, indiscriminately killing and
eating the forest animals. One day, he killed Nandini, Sage Vasishta's holy
cow, and ate its meat. Consuming beef was his third sin. Sage Vasishta
cursed him to be called Trisanku henceforth, as he had committed three
sankas, or sins. From that day, Satyavrata was known as Trisanku,"
Nirvikalpananda elaborated. "King Trayyaaruna was soon filled with
remorse for sending his only son to the forest in exile. He recalled Trisanku
to the palace and anointed him as the king. After ruling the kingdom for
many long years, Trisanku reached a state of detachment towards life. He
yearned to obtain moksha and enter Swarga – but without dying or giving
up his gross body. He expressed his unusual wish to Sage Vasishta …"
Nirvikalpananda was once again in the thick of his narrative.
"Master, I am tired of this existence. I can no longer summon up the energy,
or the interest, to govern the kingdom. I am repelled by life and its routine
compulsions."
Sage Vasishta smiled serenely. "Trisanku, these feelings are but natural at
your advanced age. "Harischandra has reached adulthood. Anoint him as
the king and lead a life of renunciation."
"I am not inclined to an ascetic's life, although I yearn to attain liberation.
Master, I wish to enter Swarga with this corporeal body."
A smile flitted across the sage's countenance. "Trisanku, gaining access to
Swarga is not under your control. Unless a person dies, it cannot be
determined whether he deserves to go to Swarga – heaven, or Naraka
hell. Death is not in your hands. If an individual commits suicide in his
desire to reach Swarga, he will undoubtedly suffer the torments of Naraka."
"Master, let me be more explicit: I wish to enter Swarga in my gross body –
this obviously precludes my death."
Sage Vasishta's face reflected his shock. Had Trisanku lost his mind?! He
said, "Trisanku, let me reveal an immutable truth: leaving aside your desire
to enter Swarga with your corporeal body, even if you die a natural death, it
is not possible for you to obtain moksha and enter Swarga ."
"Master!"
"I'm afraid this is true. The reason for this is that you do not enjoy the
favour of Ketu graha , who is the giver of moksha . It is impossible to
obtain liberation without Ketu's benignant influence."
King Trisanku locked eyes with Sage Vasishta. "Master, let us ignore the
vagaries of fortune and the influence of the grahas . I request you to
perform a prodigious yajna with the objective of sending me to Swarga in
this gross body. I know this to be within your capabilities. After all, you
performed a yajna to enable my ancestor, King Vaivasvata, to obtain
progeny."
"Trisanku, that was completely different! You desire the impossible – it
cannot be achieved. In fact, your wish is merely an absurd desire!" Sage
Vasishta declared frankly.
Trisanku persisted: "In that case, I ask you to convert my absurd desire into
a deserving wish and ensure its fulfillment. Perform the required yajna
which will liberate me and gain me entry to Swarga in this body."
"Oh king, is this a command?"
"I have requested and pleaded to no avail. Now, I command you!"
"I refuse to obey your command!"
"Master!"
"Trisanku, I repeat that you do not enjoy Ketu graha’s favour. In these
circumstances, the yajna will fail – it will not be fruitful. I refuse to perform
a yajna which has no chance of success."
Turning his back on the dumbstruck Trisanku, Sage Vasishta stalked out of
the room.
King Trisanku made his way to Viswamitra's hermitage and respectfully
touched the sage's feet.
"May your wishes be fulfilled," blessed Viswamitra.
"Maharshi, your benediction is indeed apt! I come to you burning under the
humiliation of Sage Vasishta's rebuff."
"Indeed? What transpired, Satyavrata?" Viswamitra's tone was conciliatory.
"I will not demean you by addressing you by the name conferred on you
through Vasishta's curse."
"I am blessed, Maharshi ! I am repulsed by my kingly life and duties. I
begged Sage Vasishta to conduct an appropriate yajna in order for me to
obtain moksha and enter Swarga in this corporeal body. However, he rudely
declined my request." Trisanku's voice throbbed with anger.
"What was the reason for his refusal?"
"He holds that Ketu, the bestower of moksha , exerts a negative impact on
my fortune," Trisanku said with a mocking smile.
Viswamitra roared with laughter. "Satyavrata, you must not task an
individual beyond his capabilities! Vasishta is a nobody! His powers are
negligible! All he has is the empty title of Brahmarshi. Just as a person who
is incapable of kindling the sacrificial fire resorts to blaming the twigs,
Vasishta blames Ketu for his own inadequacy."
"Master, I beg you to fulfill my desire," Trisanku pleaded.
"Satyavrata, only a Maharshi who can hold his own with the Creator with
respect to his task of creation can send you to Swarga in your gross body. I
will prove to Vasishta that I can fulfil your wish," Viswamitra declared
proudly.
"Master, you have given me your word. I no longer doubt that I will enter
Swarga!" Trisanku was overjoyed.
"Make all arrangements for the yajna . First extend your invitation to the
sages who are to be the brahmavaadins . I myself will officiate as the chief
priest and perform the yajna,” Viswamitra announced.
Trisanku prostrated himself gratefully before Viswamitra.
"May you enter Swarga in your corporeal body," said the sage in
benediction.
As he proceeded to invite the various sages required for the conduct of the
yajna , Trisanku met Vasishta's sons.
"Your father has declined my request to perform the yajna. I have now
secured Sage Viswamitra's consent to conduct the sacrifice. Kindly
participate in the yajna and give me your blessings."
Vasishta's son, Sakti, replied: "We are prohibited from attending a ceremony
proscribed by our father. Furthermore, we cannot participate in a yajna
conducted by a Kshatriya."
Trisanku returned to his palace burning with humiliation. The ministers he
had dispatched with invitations to other Brahmins also reported to him in
despair: "Lord, all the Brahmins have declined your invitation. They insist
that it is a sin to participate in a Kshatriya yajna conducted by Viswamitra."
Trisanku hurried to acquaint Viswamitra with these developments.
The outraged sage declared: "It is the misfortune of those mean Brahmins
that they fail to recognize my power as a Brahmarshi. Satyavrata, I give
you my word – I will single-handedly perform the yajna and send you to
Swarga . As long as you are fortified by Viswamitra's blessings, you will be
immune to adverse influence: even that of the grahas ! Go and proceed with
your arrangements."
Cursing all those who had spurned Trisanku's invitation to the yajna,
Viswamitra exhorted the king to commence the sacrifice on a grandiose
scale. Viswamitra recited the appropriate mantras and urged the various
gods to accept the offerings of the homas . However, the gods failed to
grace the sacrifice – they chose to reject a yajna which was conducted on
the basis of a patently absurd wish.
"Master, what do we do now?" King Trisanku lamented. "The yajna will not
be complete if the gods turn down our offerings."
Viswamitra rose in a towering rage against the recalcitrant gods. He evoked
an instrument of sacrifice called the sruvam and declared, "Satyavrata, do
not worry. I will conduct this yajna single-handedly, in spite of the absence
of the sixteen prescribed priests – Brahma, Udgaata, Brahmanaacchamsi,
Hota, Adhvarya, Prastota, Pratiprasthata, Pota, Maitraavaruna, Pratihaarta,
Acchaavaaka, Veshta, Agnidhra, Subrahmanya, Gaavastuta and Unneta. I
will ensure the success of the yajna even in the face of the gods' rejection of
its offerings. I will make it fruitful!"
"Your blessings, Maharshi ," Trisanku saluted Viswamitra with folded
hands.
"I will send you to Swarga in your corporeal body by sacrificing the
formidable powers which I have accumulated through my long years of
intense, rigorous penance. Salute Yajneswara and me and stand up,"
Viswamitra commanded.
Trisanku dutifully obeyed the sage.
Viswamitra closed his eyes in deep meditation. After a while, he opened his
eyes slowly and gazed intently at Trisanku. "Your entrance to Swarga is
beyond the reach of normal human beings. My phenomenal power will be
the invisible vimana which transports you to heaven. Om! Go, Satyavrata,
go to Swarga! Reach heaven with your corporeal body!"
At Viswamitra's command, Trisanku's body rose into the air and sped
towards heaven. Trisanku looked down at the receding sage and folded his
hands in obeisance. Viswamitra followed the king's trajectory with a
complacent smile and raised his own hand in benediction.
Trisanku hurtled towards Swarga with the speed of light, crossing the orbs
of all the grahas, including the great Surya. Indra's spies rushed to him with
news of Trisanku's imminent arrival. Indra hurried to Swarga’s entrance,
accompanied by the startled gods, nymphs, siddhas, gandharvas and
saadhyas .
Trisanku reached the gateway to heaven. Assuming the gathered assembly
to be a warm reception committee, he folded his hands in salutation to Indra
and said: "Mahendra, I am King Trisanku. Sage Viswamitra has sent me to
Swarga in my gross body by conducting a yajna and using his formidable
powers. Please accept me as a denizen of Swarga.’
"Yes, I am familiar with your unnatural desire, and the yajna conducted by
Viswamitra in his hedonistic pride. You are an accursed person.
Furthermore, your body is constituted of the five elements of earth, water,
fire, wind and ether. Individuals inhabiting such corporeal bodies are
forbidden from entering Swarga. Go! Turn back and return to earth!" Indra
proclaimed and gestured angrily with his hand.
Immediately, Trisanku turned upside down and dropped like a stone
towards the earth. As he reached the midpoint between heaven and earth,
overwhelmed with panic, Trisanku called out to Viswamitra: "Maharshi
Viswamitra! Save me! Please save me!"
Furious with Indra for foiling his objective, Viswamitra was determined to
prevent Trisanku's return to earth.
"Satyavrata!" Viswamitra commanded. "Stop! Stop right there!"
Viswamitra's powerful command immobilized Trisanku and the king froze
in his upside-down position in the sky.
"Oh king," declared Viswamitra, "my promise to send you to Swarga with
your gross body will not be in vain. I shall create another Swarga in the
space where you remain suspended. This will be your own heavenly
domain and will be called Trisanku's Swarga . You will be the sovereign of
this Swarga ."
Nirvikalpananda paused and considered his disciples. "As he promised,
Viswamitra created a second heaven, particularly for Trisanku, midway
between the earth and the sky. The sage demonstrated that he was powerful
enough to compete with the Creator in the task of creation. However,
Trisanku's Swarga is merely a limbo which hangs in the sky and belongs
nowhere. This is why a useless person is derogatively said to inhabit
Trisanku's Swarga . Do you understand that Ketu's malignant influence was
the reason behind the creation of Trisanku's Swarga ?"
"That is clear enough, master," remarked Vimalananda with a rueful smile.
"Harischandra endured untold suffering due to Rahu's adverse impact and
his father, Trisanku, was subjected to hardship on account of Ketu's
malignant influence."
"I repeat: in these stories, we have analyzed the hardships experienced by
an individual and retrospectively deduced the particular graha responsible
for his suffering," Nirvikalpananda explained.
"Master, hearing your detailed, captivating exposition of the Navagraha
Purana has been a sheer delight!" Sadananda exclaimed.
"You have given us a clear understanding of the Navagrahas and their
glory," added Shivananda.
"Hearing the Navagraha Purana has stimulated my interest in visiting the
Navagraha temples in our country," said Chidananda excitedly.
"Master," Vimalanada was enthusiastic. "Shall we go on a pilgrimage to all
the Navagraha shrines?"
"Certainly, Vimalananda," the master said with an indulgent smile. "Now,
let us listen to the assured benefits to be gained by reading the Navagraha
Purana ."
Nirvikalpananda paused and his voice assumed a solemn, prayerful timbre:
"The Navagrahas will shower their blessings in abundance on all who read
or listen to the Navagraha Purana !"
The guru bowed his head in reverence and intoned:
“Om! Aadityaadi Navagraha arpanamastu!"
“Om! Offered to the Nine Planets, of whom Surya is the
fountainhead!"
Glossary
Aarya A person of noble birth
Acharya Spiritual teacher
Adharma That which is not in accordance with the teachings of
Dharma
Agnikaarya A Vedic ritual dedicated to Agni, the god of fire
Akshata Rice grains smeared with turmeric
Akshaya-paatra An inexhaustible vessel
Amla Gooseberry
Amrita Nectar Amsa Portion
Ananda Taandav Lord Shiva's Dance of Bliss
Anga Category
Anthariksha Space
Apsara Celestial nymph
Aradhana An act of adoration
Arghya Ritual ablution
Artha gourava Literary Content
Ashram Hermitage
Ashtami Eighth day in a lunar fortnight
Ashtadikpalakas Guardians of the eight cardinal directions
Avabrdha snanam Ritual bath which concludes a yajna
Avatar Incarnation
Avyaya Imperishable
Balabrahmacharis Young ascetics under lifelong vows of celibacy
Bimba The fruit of the Momordica Monadelpha
Bhagavan Divine person
Bhaksya Fried food
Bhojya Delicacies
Bhoochara Terrestrial life
Bhutas Elements
Brahmanda
Roopa Universal Form
Brahmavaadins Exponents of the Vedas
Chaaranaas Demigods
Chakra Wheel
Chaturmukha Four-faced god: Brahma
Chintamani Wish fulfilling jewel
Choshya Beverages
Daanavas Demons: the offspring of Danu, one of the Kasyapa's
wives.
Damaruka Small, two-headed drum
Daitya Demons: the offspring of Diti, one of Kasyapa's wives.
Darbha Sacrificial Grass: Desmotachya bipinnata, used in
Hindu rites.
Darshan Auspicious sight
Deva-guru Preceptor of the gods
Devas Demigods
Devi A married woman or a female deity
Dharma The eternal law of the cosmos according to Hinduism
Dikpaalaka Guardian of a cardinal direction
Diya A small clay lamp
Dwaadasa
Aadityas Twelve names of the sun
Dwapara Yuga The third of the four ages described in Hindu scriptures
Gandharvas Celestial musicians
Garudas Celestial beings belonging to the clan of eagles
Gothra Family name
Guru Teacher
Guru dakshina Teacher's fee
Gurukul
Paathasaala Residential school with pupils living with the guru
Gurupatni The guru's wife
Havis An oblation made to a god through the sacrificial fire
Homam Vedic sacrificial ritual with Agni (the god of fire) as
intermediary
Jaatakarma Religious rite celebrating the birth of a child
Jalacharas Aquatic life
Japa Prayer
Jnana Enlightenment
Kaalakeya Demons: the offspring of Kaala, one of Kasyapa's
wives
Krttika One of the twenty-seven stars in Hindu astrology
Kalasa Water-pot used for religious purposes
Kalpa A time period (a day according to Brahma's divine
count)
Kalpavrksha A wish-fulfilling divine tree
Kamandalam A water-pot used by ascetics
Kaamadhenu Divine cow of plenty
Karma Action
Khechara Avian life
Kimpurushas Divine beings with equine faces and human bodies
Kinnaras Divine beings with equine faces and human bodies
Kshatriya Member of the warrior caste
Ksheeraannam Rice and milk pudding
Kumara Son
Lehya Medicinal food
Lipi Writing
Loka Plane of existence
Maanasaputra Mind-born son
Maanavas The human race: descendants of Manu
Maharshi Great sage
Maha sankalp Great will: preparatory mind-set for penance or puja
Mahayogi Great ascetic
Mahathi Sage Narada's lute
Makara kundala Crocodile-shaped ear ornament
Mangala Auspicious
Manmatha The god of love
Mantra Sanskrit religious incantation
Matsyakaantha Mermaid
Moolarupa Original Godhead
Namo Namah! Salutation meaning 'I bow.'
Navagrahas The nine planets
Navarathnas The nine precious gems
Nirhetuka Krpa Unconditional grace – a divine quality
Omkar The primordial sound of 'Om'
Paanigraham Marriage
Parabrahma The Supreme Lord
Paramathma The Supreme Soul
Pithamaha Paternal grandfather / Chaturmukha Brahma
Prajapati Lord of the people
Pralaya Annihilation
Pramodoota Fourth of the sixty years of the Hindu calendar
Pranam Obeisance
Pranava mantra The primordial sound, 'Om.'
Prasnopanishat Question-and-answer method of oral instruction in the
Upanishads
Purohit Family priest
Pushya One of the twenty-seven stars in Hindu astrology
Raasi Sign of the zodiac
Rakshasas Demons
Rakshas vivah Marriage performed forcibly with an abducted virgin
Rajoguna The quality of passion and activity
Rudra Veerya Lord Shiva's semen
Saadhana Consistent effort
Saadhyas A clan of demi gods
Saamkhya Yoga School of Indian philosophy
Saatwic The quality of balance, harmony, virtue and peace
Saiva Branch of Hinduism devoted to the worship of Shiva as
Supreme God
Samidhas Twigs offered into the sacred fire during religious rites
Sankha Sacred conch shell
Sathapatha
Brahamana A Hindu religious text
Satyaloka The world of Brahma
Seshatalpa Vishnu's serpent-bed
Siddhas A clan of demigods
Sishyas Disciples
Sloka Verse
Soumya Soma's (Chandra) son
Srshti Creation
Sruvam Wooden instrument used to pour ghee into the
sacrificial fire
Sudra A man of the lowest caste
Sukram Semen
Sukta Vedic aphorism
Suras Gods
Swaathi One of the twenty-seven stars in Hindu astrology
Swami Hindu honorific for Master
Swarga Heaven
Taamasic The quality of imbalance, lethargy, ignorance and
destruction
Tapas Penance
Teertham Holy water
Tejas Splendour
Tejomandala Corona
Thirkaalajnata Knowledge of the past, the present and the future
Tilak An ornament or mark worn by a Hindu on the forehead
to indicate caste
Tretayug The second of the four ages described in Hindu
scriptures
Trimurti The holy trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva
Trinethra Three Eyed: a name for Lord Shiva
Trishul Trident
Upanayanam Investiture with the sacred thread before commencing
religious study
Vanavasam Exile in the forest
Varaaroha A woman with fine hips
Vasantham Spring season
Vasus Elemental gods in Hinduism
Vaikuntha Abode of Lord Vishnu
Vedas Earliest Hindu scriptures
Vidwan Scholar
Vidya Education
Vimana A self-moving aerial vehicle
Virat Purusha Immense cosmic form: Lord Vishnu's universal form
Vishnupriya Beloved of Vishnu
Viswa kartha Creator of the Universe
Viswa bhartha Lord of the Universe
Viswaroopa Universal Form of Lord Vishnu
Vysya A caste
Yajna Ritual sacrifice
Yajus or The Veda of prose mantras
Yajurveda
Yojana Measure of distance
Yuga Cycle of time
OceanofPDF.com
Slokas
Ardhakaayam mahaaveeram Chandraaditya vimardanam!
Simhikaa garbha sambhootam tam Raahum pranamaamyaham!
I offer my salutations to Rahu who is half-bodied, who is distinguished and
valiant, who is the oppressor of Chandra and Aditya and who is born from
Simhika's womb.
Dadhi sankha tushaaraabham ksheerodaarnava sambhavam!
Namaami sasinam Somam Sambhormakuta bhooshanam!
I offer my salutations to Sasi who is known as Soma (Chandra) who shines
like curds, the conch and snow, who rose from the Ocean of Milk, who is
the ornament on Sambhu's (Lord Shiva) crown.
Devaanaam cha rsheenaam cha Gurum kaanchana sannibham!
Buddhimantam trilokesam tam namaami Brhaspatim!
I offer my salutations to Brhaspati, who is the preceptor of the gods and
sages, who is resplendent like gold, who is the personification of wisdom
and who is the lord of the three worlds.
Dharanee garbha sambhootam vidyut kaanti samaprabham!
Kumaaram sakti hastam tam Mangalam pranamaamyaham!
I offer my salutations to Mangala (Kuja) who is born from the womb of the
Earth, who is resplendent like lightning, who is (called) Kumara, and who
holds the weapon, Sakti, in his hand.
Harih Om!
Adityaadi navagraha devataabhyo namah
Adityaaya cha Somaaya Mangalaaya Budhaaya cha
Guru Sukra Sanibhyascha Raahave Ketave namaha.
Salutations to Aditya and other Navagrahas.
I offer my salutations to Aditya, Soma, Mangala, Budha, Guru, Sukra, Sani,
Rahu and Ketu.
Himakunda mrnaalaabham daityaanaam paramam gurum!
Sarvasaastra pravaktaaram Bhaargavam pranamaamyaham!
I offer my salutations to Bhargava (Sukra) who shines like snow, like the
Kunda flower and lotus-fiber, who is the great preceptor of the demons and
who is the expert orator of all the scriptures.
Japaakusuma samkaasam kaasyapeyam mahaadyutim
Tamorim sarva paapaghnam pranatosmi divaakaram.
I offer my salutations to Divaakara (Surya), who shines like the japa flower,
who is the son of Kasyapa, who is resplendent, who is the enemy of
darkness, and who is the destroyer of all sins.
Kara aravindena pada aravindam
Mukha aravindena vinivesayantam
Vatasya patrasya pute sayaanam
Baalam mukundam manasaa smaraami.
I meditate on that Holy Child who sleeps on the banyan leaf with His lotus-
like foot in His lotus-like hand, placed in His lotus-like mouth.
Neelaanjana samaabhaasam Ravi putram Yamaagrajam!
Chaayaa Maartaanda sambhootam tam namaami Sanaischaram!
I offer my salutations to Sanaischara who shines like dark blue collyrium,
who is the son of Ravi (Surya),who has Yama as his elder brother and who
is born of Chaaya and Maartaanda (Surya).
Palaasa pushpa sankaasam taarakaa graham mastakam!
Roudram roudraatmakam ghoram tam Ketum pranamaamyaham!
I offer my salutations to Ketu who shines like the palaasa flower, who is
foremost among the stars and planets, who is Roudra, whose form is fierce
and horrible.
Priyangu kalikaa syaamam roopenaa apratimam Budham!
Sowmyam Sowmyagunopetam tam Budhaam pranamaamyaham!
I offer my salutations to Budha who is of dark blue complexion like the
Priyangu bud, who is wise, who is of incomparable beauty, who is (called)
Soumya and who is of benevolent quality.
Saptaasva rathamaaroodham prachandam Kasyapaatmajam!
Swethapadmadharam Devam! Tam Suryam! Pranamaamyaham!!
I offer my salutations to Surya who rides the seven horse-chariot, who is
very passionate, who is the son of Kasyapa, who holds the white lotus and
who is God.
Select Bibliography
Andhra Mahabharatam
Bhagavatam
Devi Bhagavatham
The Eighteen Puranas
Mahabharata (Sanskrit)
Ranganatha Ramayanam
Srishti Prakarana
Uttara Ramayanam
Valmiki Ramayana (Sanskrit)
Acknowledgements
N 'avagraha Purana is more than a book – it is the culmination of years of
ongoing research. This research has truly been an epic journey through the
divine forests of Hindu mythology, and I feel privileged to be able to lead
the reader down the jungle paths I so meticulously forged. When I
discovered the task had not yet been undertaken to represent the life and
glory of the Navagrahas (the nine planets), I felt that God had granted me
the opportunity to tell this story, just as He had granted me the gifts with
which to tell it.
A purana is a religious text identified by five particular elements: the
Creation of worlds, the Destruction and Renovation of worlds, the
Genealogy of gods and heroes, the Rein of the Manus, and the Transactions
of their descendants. As each of these elements has a role in the story of the
Navagrahas, I have decided to call my work Navagraha Purana .
It would be far too simple to say that purana is pure fiction. As teams of
researchers continue to discover the many ways that Mars resembles Earth,
those who have read the puranas just smile, for they have known for
generations that the planet Kuja (Mars) is the son of Mother Earth.
Even those who question the scientific foundations of such writing must
admit that it is representative of a spiritual truth. Nevertheless, while
writing the story of the Navagrahas, I took care to maintain harmony
between the scriptures themselves and the way they have come to be
interpreted and practiced by human beings.
I would like to express my deep gratitude to Jaico Publishing House for
making possible the translation of my Navagraha Purana, so that a
valuable Indian story may be shared among an English audience as well.
I owe my sincere thanks to Ms. Sandhya Iyer , Managing Editor, Jaico
Publishing House, for selecting my work for publication, and overseeing
the publication of Navagraha Purana, Ms. Mugdha Guru for her efforts in
every aspect of getting the book printed, Ms. Dipti Patel of Wordfamous for
taking the initiative as my literary agent and Ms. Preetha Kannan for her
expert and significant efforts in editing the book.
And many thanks with my blessings to my beloved daughter Umarji
Anuradha for her continuous endeavors in bringing this book to light.
V S Rao
Hyderabad
About the Author
V S Rao (Vakkantham Suryanarayana Rao) is a celebrated Telugu author,
playwright and script writer. He was born in 1942 at Arikela, a remote
village near Punganuru in Andhra Pradesh and has a high school education.
He wrote his first story, which was for children while still a child himself.
His father Mr. Varadaiah, who was a lover of literature recognized his son's
incipient talent and encouraged him to read extensively. Mr. Rao thus went
on to become a voracious reader and writer par excellence. Later Mr.
Temporau, the pioneer of Telugu pocket detective fiction, became his
mentor.
Mr. Rao's works include short stories, novels, plays and philosophical
articles. Mr. Rao has a number of titles to his credit under the nom de plume
V S Rao, Baatasaari, Koundinya, Suryaatreya and Chitrabhanu. While
working as translator in one of the wings of Tirumala Tirupati
Devasthanams, he has translated a number of Kannada religious books into
Telugu.
His extensive epic-based works include Navagraha Puranam which has
sold more than one lakh copies. His plays explore societal issues and
mythology, while his books run the gamut from philosophy and social
concerns to thrillers and drama. His writing is largely women-centric, and
passionately highlights women's issues.
Mr. Rao is the recipient of numerous literary awards for his plays and prizes
for novels. His short story MODEL was anthologized in the Bharateeya
Jnanapith's Visishta Bhaarateeya Kahaniyan and his literary work has been
the thesis of a doctorate awarded by Sri Venkateswara University.
Mr. Rao is the father of three sons including Vakkantham Vamsi , a reputed
Telugu screen writer. He lives in Hyderabad with his family.
OceanofPDF.com